


A Prince's Fall

by ystv



Series: The Metamorphosis of a Prince [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Becoming Zuko: A Prince's Demise, Captive, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Grudge, Implied Sexual Content, Manipulation, Mind Games, Other, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prequel, Prisoner of War, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Solitary, Torture, Trauma, dark themes, study of reactions, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-01-27 15:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ystv/pseuds/ystv
Summary: The trip to town had been about resupplying. Zuko hadn’t reckoned on being recognized, much less captured by some Earth Kingdom town. He’d been avoiding society after his experience with Lee’s family, but he’d been running out of food for himself and the ostrich horse. And it wasn’t like it was anything new that life threw all kinds of difficulties at him, but being the Prince of the enemy nation, regardless of his status as traitor, made them hate him all the more. Now they had him, weakened and bound, and they were growing bolder.PREQUEL to: Becoming Zuko: A Prince's DemiseThis is complementary backstory,  which means reading it is NOT required to understand the mainstory.And as this is pre-story, reading the mainstory first is NOT required, either.
Series: The Metamorphosis of a Prince [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542379
Comments: 76
Kudos: 245





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my friend Rita!
> 
> A few words. In some ways, this is completely different in style and approach than "Becoming Zuko: A Prince's Demise "(the main project).: Where "A Prince's Demise" is subtle, showing the aftermath, implying and leaving hints, but never rightout telling, "A Prince's Fall" is describing some of those details. And while I tried to be gentle and respectful, especially with certain themes, it is much more explicit. It's not necessarily very graphic, but I'm just saying that sometimes, graphic is easier to swallow than the implications of what's going on, especially tied back to psychological aspects of it.  
I'm just making sure you're prepared for what you're about to read. I find that warnings/tags are often taken a little too lightly.  
If you're sure you want to read this, then go ahead:)

0ZUKO0

_ The darkness, an oppressing companion, made him think, made him remember. He was alone, and there was no door, no path of escape. He wasn’t even sure if there was an air duct or if he was cut off. They had let him be alone, and he had no idea how much time had passed, only that hunger and thirst had long since set in. As a firebender, he missed the sun on a different level than other people would. He felt the lack of it as acutely as a numbing limb from a pinched nerve. _

His trial had been short and had mainly consisted of looking at his face and deciding that the scar matched the description. They already knew he was a firebender from when he had tried to free himself. A skilled earthbender had managed to restrain him until he had worn himself out, then quickly brought him to his knees with well placed jabs and the patience of a master in his art. 

They’d then dragged him downwards, like a sack of potatoes, to what he assumed to be a dungeon. The rattling of his loose metal chains resounded from the walls in close echoes, loud and unyielding. They hadn’t brought any torches, instead they had a sort of glowing crystal that shed a cold green light, a dead-looking one, very unlike the light sources that Zuko was used to. He hated it. It cast an eerie, ever steady glow, never flickering, unmoving. It reminded him of his exhausted, burnt out state. His captors were still holding him, grips bruising.

Zuko, even in his exhausted state, was memorizing the route they were taking, if there were any hallways branching off, he took note of them. Any doors, he saw them all, trying to commit them to memory. He was determined to get out as soon as he could. But then, they shoved him though what seemed to just be another passage, the crystal didn’t illuminate as much of the space ahead of them, making his judgement circumspect at best. They didn’t follow, and as Zuko turned around, he saw a wall rising in the passage’s place, quickly. There was no way to stop it and within mere seconds, his world turned from eerie green to pitch black. Within mere seconds he was completely alone, cut off from the world.

_ His long wait after the humiliating capture consisted of sitting in that dark prison cell and wondering what would happen to him now. _

He’d screamed in frustration, thrown a weak fire fist against the stone, then slumped down against the adjacent wall, too tired to explore what he knew to be inescapable. The air in the room tasted stale, bitter, still.

It didn’t take long, however, until the darkness became so oppressive, the room so quiet, with only his chains rattling and the sound bouncing off the walls whenever he moved, that he carefully opened his palm, calling forth flame.

He wouldn’t have thought that seeing the room would make him more restless. It wasn’t the size, darkness had its way to make things seem smaller. The room was a decent size and it was of sturdy stone. It was even dry, though of course still cool due to being underground and all. No, what made him restless was the fact that he’d assumed that there would be air holes somewhere, since the entrance was already sealed off. But there was nothing but smooth vertical walls, smooth ground and a smooth looking ceiling. The room looked as if sealed completely. Quickly he put out the flame. With limited air supply, he couldn’t keep a flame going, no matter how much he wanted to see.

The darkness got to him more than he liked to admit. The words the town’s mayor had spoken before they brought him there, didn’t help either.

He couldn’t forget what he’d seen, and the complete darkness that lay around him far heavier after his brief glimpse of his prison. The room seemed to get smaller, and though he knew that that wasn’t happening, it was basically the same with using up the air that was available.

And the mayor’s words. He remembered them with dread, but somehow they also assured him that he wouldn’t die of suffocation down here. _ "So this is the proud prince of the Fire Nation? Laughable! You're nothing, a traitor, what made you think you're welcome here?…" _ Zuko couldn’t help but recalling them every so often . _ "… Well, I know exactly what to do with you. You're the ideal tool to keep the village nice and calm. With you, they will have a place to put their grudge against the Fire Nation, and I’ll have my peace." _ he’d said, his words laced with a serpentine sneer.

Zuko hadn’t counted on someone recognizing him, the trip into town hadn’t been about being welcomed, it had been about resupplying. But that didn’t matter, they’d gotten him and left him to wonder what the vague words of what was going to happen meant for what was in store for him.

He’d screamed at the mayor, at the people under their figurehead, that he’d burn everyone in his path as soon as he had the slightest chance, that he wouldn’t hold back again. And the mayor had just laughed at it, told him that he’d make sure he wouldn’t escape, and that if he killed anyone, or even just attempted to, he’d be a dead man walking, and that he’d wish he was already long dead by the time they’d allow him to pass to his ancestors.

Long hours of contemplation and worry, eventually ended in fits of sleep, crumbled and curled against the same wall, just beside where the entrance had used to be, and waking up feeling thirsty and full of regrets. Angry, angry at himself, angry at the situation, angry at them. He couldn’t help but replay the fight in his mind, thinking of where he could have done better, and though he’d felt he’d done the best he could at said moment, it became continuously harder to remind himself of that.

He’d given himself away with reacting to the calling of recognition, had he played it off, would he have managed to not end up here? Had he fought with fire from the beginning, might he have gotten away? Had he turned around and ran, would he have made it? If he’d moved to kill instead of defend, would he have won?

He knew he’d at least injured some of them. He’d done his best in his panic. He needed to think ahead now, not be caught in thinking about the past. He needed to escape. Thirst and hunger were making thinking increasingly difficult. Lack of ideas, feeling ever cold and not wanting to use up more air with exercising, it made him lose track of time, he wasn’t sure if he just spaced out sometimes or even nodded off, he couldn’t tell anymore.

He tried to feel for the sun, his source of strength, but though firebending kept him connected to the sun at all times, he felt as it was became increasingly estranged, he felt increasingly drained.

He wouldn’t give up though. He’d wait for when they came, he’d manage somehow, even with the shackles and chain. He’d find a way to get rid of them. But time stretched, and thirst and hunger built up, with no one coming. There was no one to fight, no one to open up a door to escape through.

He was still alive, so it couldn’t have been days, but it was starting to feel like it was. It appeared they were bent on draining him before getting him out, and he hated that it was working. He missed the sun, he missed wide open spaces that didn’t throw every sound he made back at his face. They were becoming too loud with the headache that was slowly forming. He shivered in the cool, stale, air and stayed close to the supposed entrance hoping foolishly to be able to overwhelm them and get away, despite his weakened state.

There were times he threw being reasonable to the non existent wind, shouted, screamed, punched walls, and sometimes carefully called out weak flames. A couple of those times, he thought to see air holes, but he wasn’t sure to believe his eyes anymore, and any bright flame that properly illuminated the room was starting to hurt his eyes instead of enabling him to see. And he didn’t seriously want to risk it eating up the air if he’d seen wrong. He felt like he was going crazy. Angry at everything, most of all himself for not seeing a way out. Angry because he feared the unknown. He didn’t know what they’d do to him.

0ZUKO0

They eventually retrieved him, leading him up the stairs in heavy shackles. The sun, though providing him with an energy boost that rejuvenated him somewhat, made his eyes tear up. It hurt to see anything bright, seeing that his eyes had become overly adjusted to complete darkness. His ears were also experiencing sudden overload, further increasing the pounding in his head.

As his gaze adjusted, Zuko noted that he was being brought to the market in a public demonstration. There was no way he could escape a whole mob.

On an elevated platform, they forced him to take off his upper garments while a blade was held to his neck, as if he wasn’t already weak from lack of food and water. Then, they put his arms back into shackles on the center of the square: They forced him to raise his arms stretch them out in front of him at eye level, and held him there, the chain that linked both wrists together pulled apart and heavy. Then stone rose from the square centre’s elevated platform, raising ever higher, making him realize that soon the chain would either be encased in stone or pull him up alongside. Squirming was pointless, the hands holding him in place didn’t give way until the stone indeed had encased the chain between his wrists. The pillar was growing wider now, pulling him closer against what quickly took the form of a lithic whipping post and forced him to awkwardly hug it with little leeway to move his head. The earthbender inscribed his identity and status into the post, so everyone could read who he was, then, they left him to be under the scrutiny and mercy of the masses.

The first day, there had mostly been gapers, few had laid their hands on him. Zuko had just been waiting for them to actually go through with whipping him. Instead, they had finally given him water and some food. Forced it down his throat really.

They probably thought that it would put him on edge if they left him in the dark about what was going to happen and when, but Zuko was stronger than that. He was sure that he could take what they’d dish out. He just hoped that uncle had been following, he suspected that he did, but uncle had been on foot, whereas Zuko had traveled by ostrich horse.

The night hadn’t been overly cold, but being forced to stand the way he was continuously, was exhausting, mentally and physically, and he had barely gotten any sleep. His arms hurt from being held raised and his hands were asleep, tingling whenever he moved them. Most mocking was that they didn't even guard him during the night hours. But he could see why not, he had tried to get free and, try as he might, there was just no way he could on his own.

The mob was still hesitant to approach him early the next day and Zuko had no choice but to wait. So it was almost a relief in some way when they finally went through with the whipping that afternoon. 

He hadn’t seen them coming, as the whipper had only approached him from his backside. Zuko had been standing there, shirtless, arms hurting from having been shackled to the backside of the post on a slightly higher level than his shoulders, forced to hug the stone that kept him standing there. The thing that had tipped him off was the gathering crowd and the whispering before pain exploded on his bare back and the crowd started cheering.

He also didn’t know what they had whipped him with, he couldn’t turn to see the damage, and they had left him there after they were done. But seeing him this defenseless, bleeding and in pain, had broken the crowds reluctance to approach him and Zuko started to realize what the mayor had meant about the crowd having a place to put their grudge against the Fire Nation. The open wounds also attracted more flies.

It was still bearable, though. Humiliating, but bearable. Zuko was positive that he’d get out of this situation somehow, and more or less in tact.

_ It was the men that came at night who started to change that. _

He couldn’t see him, he could only hear him approach from behind as he stood there alone in the dark of night, the square desolated, the exact opposite of the liveliness that took place during the day. First, the man had only poked at his wounds, touching him in ways meant to cause pain and discomfort. Real fear only started to seep in when he started to go for the waistband of Zuko’s trousers.

Zuko had no chance.

His legs were still shackled from the walk here, and the earthbender who had created the post had ingrained at least one or two chain links in the middle of that chain into the stone. He had barely any any leeway to begin with, there was no way to squirm away. He couldn’t even kick the man in the shin and any fire he would be able to conjure was more likely to burn him than his enemy.

His heart beat increased as reasonable thoughts gave way to panic. Wind on freshly uncovered skin gave way to touches and pushes, which caused shudders up his spine and sent him squirming, desperate to get away. His mind wasn't really catching up on what was going on, trying to keep calm but failing. Then the other let off for a moment and he could hear clothes rustling. He pulled against the chains.

Hands grabbed his hips roughly, holding him in place as something pushed forward. It all turned painful really quickly as he felt something push inside of where he knew nothing should ever go and it hurt even more when the man started moving and making unsettling noises. Zuko grit his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to get his arms, legs, anything, lose. Trying to get away.

It was terrifying. It was humiliating. It was the first time he started to truly grasp the horror of his situation.

The man eventually slowed his movements. With a hard slap on Zuko's shredded back, he took a step back and Zuko couldn't hold back the pained cry. The lacerations were still fresh and the feel of something being pulled out of him wasn't painless either.

The man leaned close to him again and Zuko pressed himself against the stone out of lack of other options. The man spoke softly in a low, mocking voice. “What a convenient little whore you make, Fire Prince! Welcome to your new life.”

The man grabbed Zuko's trousers, which had slid down to his knees, pulling them up roughly. Zuko froze, not knowing what was coming now, with the man’s words still ringing in his ears, but the man merely refastened Zuko's waistband. “Can't have you scare the kids, can we?” he said while doing it. Then, he just turned away and an out-of-tune whistle, as well as crunching below feet, were informing Zuko of his leave.

He only realized that he had held his breath when the whistling no longer reached his ears. And it was only then that he started registering and distinguishing all the different pains he was in. Many scabs on his back had ripped open again with all the squirming, and he could still feel where the hands had grabbed him. His wrists hurt, the metal already starting to cut into skin. The most worrying part was his rear though. It hurt, it hurt badly and he could feel sticky liquid dripping down the inside of his pants and the fabric soaking it up. Was it blood? 

He felt disgusting, disgusted. At the man, at himself. And he felt vulnerable, now more so than ever. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned his forehead against the cool stone, willing the tears away that threatened to fall, he couldn’t break already, it had only been two days.

He was exhausted, he could feel himself shaking and seeing as it was night, it would have made sense to sleep. He tried, but instead, his mind kept returning to the man and the pain. The feeling of being invaded, but not daring to even think about what that had been, what it meant... There was also discomfort at the slowly drying fluid that caked the inside of his pants. But eventually exhaustion must have caught up with him, because when he became aware again, the sun was peeking over the horizon and people started to trickle into the market square.

As he’d slumped down when he’d fallen asleep, his wrists and arms had gone numb. So getting into a standing position again had been a painful exercise. His trousers felt damp in the morning air, his skin clammy. The first people with their stands were filing in, but it was a low buzz and it seemed that for once the attention wasn’t on him.

A while later, someone approached. A hand grabbed his wrist, causing him to flinch. A key was jammed into the shackle’s lock, opening it and quickly twisting the arm onto his back. The sudden change of position was accompanied by white pain, the pressure on his back didn’t help it either, he ground out a pained noise.

The other arm soon followed, but they just let it fall down. He could feel the stone encasing the chain connecting his feet retreat. Then, they roughly pulled him backwards, throwing him to the ground.

Zuko tried to catch his fall with his hands, but failing miserably as his arms were only waking up from being in one position for way too long. Zuko rolled to his side, trying to sit up. A man in a guard uniform (as he now saw), grabbed his arm and pulled him up again, dragging him so that Zuko stumbled over the chain. They stopped at a sewer. “Do your business. Do it quickly, and don’t try anything or you’ll get to use your pants in the future. And keep your hands in view.”

Zuko swallowed emptily. It had been way too long, and even if he hadn’t had much to drink, his body had decided that it could spare some liquid, he had to go… They were a bit aside, so there were less people around, but people could be watching. The guard was watching. Fear was twisting inside him. But he kind of really had to go and he probably wouldn’t get the chance again very soon. In fact, the guard’s words implied that they weren’t above letting him shit his pants. With shaking fingers he fumbled with the chord that held his only piece of clothing in place…. 

The way back was easier since his arms were tingling less than before. When they arrived, he was thrown to the ground again. Now at least, he could break his fall. He quickly sat up and a piece of bread landed in his lap. It wasn’t hard yet, though definitely not fresh anymore, but bigger than anything they’d given him so far.

“There’s water, too. I’ll hand it to you. Try burning me, or do any funny business at all, and you will regret it ten times over.” He held out a bowl which Zuko took, immediately taking a sip. He was thirsty, very much so. He took his time eating, hoping that, if they already gave him so much, they’d want him to eat it, too... They let him.

They grabbed him as soon as he’d drunk the rest of the water, though. quickly bringing him back to the post and only then, Zuko started to fight. He was subdued quickly, and wrists locked back in the shackles and the chain between his feet reconnected with the stone. They left without a word.

Time stretched, the sun burned at his back and arms. He could feel the skin growing hot, though his bending kept the skin burnfree. People grew more bold as time went on, but it was mostly limited to insults and taunting.

He didn't say anything back, he couldn't even see who was speaking most of the time and he knew better than to provoke the crowds. He hoped for the evening, he dreaded the night.

By the time when the merchants started clearing the place, Zuko's mouth had been dry for hours and he felt his bladder ache really badly. They had provided him with some more water at noon, but they hadn't let him down then and he was coming to regret having drunk so much. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to hold it, and he didn't know when they'd let him down next. The wait was dreading.

He managed to hold it until they came, but just barely. The square was almost empty and Zuko was glad for it as he stumbled to the sewer. The guards were different ones, they treated him similarly though. One was rougher than the other. He got food and water again, but when he was done, they didn’t force him up again, instead, they pulled the chain of his feet over to the pillar and only refastened to the pole.

Zuko, who had fully prepared to fight again despite the obvious exhaustion, only slumped down in relief when they left. Despite his doubts about being able to sleep and his determination to see if he could free himself of the chain and flee, sleep caught up to him quickly, now that he was laying down…

0ZUKO0

_ It happened again that night. And at that time, he had no idea how much worse it would get. How broken he would be in the end. _

A kick to his side woke him up and disorientedly, he looked around. The sky had darkened and seeing a man in front of him, he quickly sat up to look around if someone else was there. It couldn’t be that late, the tavern across the square was still lit, but as for the moment, they were alone. That awareness speared through Zuko’s muddled consciousness, quickly waking the rest of him up.

The man squatted down in front of him. “Well, Bào said he had a fun time yesterday, let’s see how you do for me. And I see you even got your hands free tonight. Come on.”

“No.” Zuko quietly said. leaning back to have more space. Though, as his back touched the pillar, he winced from pain. He had forgotten about his wounds there in all the aches that were present in his body. The chain rattled at his feet as he tried and failed to rearrange them.

“No? Are you in any position to say no? I could make you feel good, you know… or I could make it extra painful.” He leaned closer, grinning as he spoke. Zuko couldn’t see him clearly in the dark of night, but he could hear it in the voice.

“No, stay away!” Zuko shifted to the side of the post in an attempt to put more distance between them. The man grabbed him by the shoulder. “I’ll burn you!” Zuko said in warning, panic creeping into his voice. 

“My, my. Bào didn’t mention that you were that feisty. Now get up, I’m not a patient man.”

Zuko, who still had himself pushed up in a sitting position with his arms, quickly grabbed some dust and threw it forward to the man’s eyes, then he immediately got onto his feet to have better stance for fire bending.

The man rubbed his eyes, the grin slipping from his face, replaced by a displeased scowl. “My, my. Someone has spunk.”

Zuko hesitated, and that was his bane. The man had been too close already, and when he took another step towards him and Zuko moved to land a hit, the other slipped under his guard, grabbed his arm, nullifying the attempt successfully. Zuko was slammed against the post and held there. He could feel his chest moving rapidly. His attempt at kicking was stopped by the shackles around his ankles and his back screamed as the wounds there were pressed against the stone.

The man grabbed his neck and leaned in close. “You got no chance. Give up!”

“No!” Zuko croaked out, preparing to breathe fire, even though his neck position was less than ideal to utilize the technique. He did it as soon as the man let go of his neck, who did a startled whelp, jumping back. It hadn’t burned him, the breath had been too weak and barely left any soot on his skin, but the man’s eyes thinned to slits, anyway.

“I’ll ignore what you just did and be gentle if you turn around quietly and stop fighting. If you don’t, this will get very painful.”

Zuko didn’t turn around, he tried to breathe fire again. The flames lit up their surroundings, finally giving Zuko a view on the man's features. The man sidestepped and quickly dove in to push a hand against his chin and pinching Zuko’s nose to stop the airflow as he breathed in. 

He couldn’t prevent being turned around, he couldn’t breathe. He was held against the man’s body, started clawing at the hand holding him and was abruptly let go and slammed forward against the pillar. It knocked the breath out of him.

The man had been right, things turned out painful. Opposed to last time, Zuko could acutely feel the anger that accompanied the actions. Bào, as the other had called him: he hadn’t been angry like this, he’d been more straightforward, just taking what he wanted. This man now; he’d warned him, he’d become angry when Zuko wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Now he was letting out his anger and taking what he came for anyway. And he was being cruel about it.

When he was done, he merely let go of Zuko, whose legs just folded together. Zuko curled into himself in an attempt to comfort himself, to block out the pain, the man, the world… but a kick to his back reminded him that the man hadn’t left yet.

“Let this teach you not to refuse me again.”

Even after he’d finally left, Zuko didn’t move for a long while. He knew, he was definitely bleeding this time. There were scratches on several places, and the grip that had held him up would most likely bruise. His inventory eventually moved to the state of clothing he was in. This man hadn’t bothered to redress him.

Zuko pressed his lips together and finally moved, his hands were free now, he could do it himself, not that the additional freedom had helped him to keep himself safe, and the man away. Zuko curled up again, shame eating him up. He didn't have the energy or will to move anymore and it felt like an eternity until he drifted off to sleep, flashes of memories and upsetting emotions disrupting his attempts at calming himself down. The body's exhaustion won out in the end. He didn’t move until the next morning, when two guards forced him to do his new morning routine, the trip to the sewer.

He got food and water, slowly ate it, not hungry even though his stomach grumbled. When he was close to being done, they suddenly grabbed his arms, telling him to finish drinking quickly, then ripped the bowl from his hands and pulled him up. It seemed that they didn’t want to risk him fighting with a somewhat rested body, no matter that his legs were still bound.

Too quickly he found himself back at the whipping post, wrists encased in shackles, not ready for the day.


	2. Chapter 2

00LI00

_ The first time where hatred had him truly in his grip, was the day a prisoner of war was flogged on the village’s market square. They had announced him as the Fire Nation’s prince the day before, and the culprit had suddenly had a name, a face, a body. Lì hardly recognized himself. _

Lì was standing at the edge of the market, close to the center where they had bound the Fire prince to a whipping post. Firebenders had taken away his family. Fire had burned the skin off his right arm. That fire had a face now, a body within reach. He glared at the back of the bound man with dark, hating passion.

He'd been here yesterday already, and the day before. He’d drunk in the pain and blood when the whip had dug into skin. The arrival of the Prince had brought back many dark memories for him as Lì self-consciously cradled his crippled hand.

He’d been there when they’d subdued him. He’d seen the flames lick the ground, he’d seen the inferno the other could unleash if he chose to do so, and Lì'd been so afraid, so glad when the other had been captured and led away to the village’s dungeon. Now, the prisoner stood in public and Lì felt drawn towards the defenseless man, dark thoughts pushing him forwards.

Lì had never experienced something like this. He wasn't usually like this, this wasn't him. Lì knew this young man hadn’t done it, he barely recalled their faces, but he knew they’d been older, bulkier. Logic didn’t seem to matter to his simmering emotions, though. This man was a Firebender. And he was supposed to be the son of the Fire Lord, the son of the man who had sent those troops into their land. The son of the man who had ordered the invasion into the Earth Kingdom and allowed them to wreak havoc, doing and taking whatever they wanted. Lì clenched his good hand, turning away.

Just then, a couple of his friends spotted him and called out to gather his attention. He had to get to his job at the food stand soon, anyway, might as well get going.

“Hey Lì, what’s up?” Ziang jumped him from behind, throwing an arm over his shoulder, nearly throwing him off balance.

“Nothing much, just enjoying the morning breeze before work. What about you?” Lì replied, turning away from the center to slowly make his way to the food stand with Ziang and Min Wei, joking around. He acted carefree, when in reality his thoughts kept returning to the man bound to the whipping post.

The food stand allowed a tiny view into the square’s center, and throughout the day, whenever he had time, Lì found his eyes wandering over to that small gap. By noon, when his delivery job sent him away from the stand, he got a chance to cross the market square a couple of times, and every time he paused to see what the captive was doing.

He wasn’t the only one. Often, people would stop and stare when they crossed the market. Some would throw insults, some would taunt, some would do more.

Lì hadn’t done anything so far. He had imagined it, but the longing to hurt the firebender left a bitter taste in his mouth, so he let others do it.

Like this time, Lì noted, some children had walked up to the prisoner. He knew them, a couple of twelve year old’s. They were whispering among themselves. Lì took a step closer to be able to hear their conspiratorial stage whispers.

“... don’t touch him, he stinks. And he’s dirty.” one boy called out to another who had been reaching out to do just that. Lì could see the captive’s shoulders flexing slightly, sweat glistening, running trails in the dust that had accumulated on his skin. His back indeed was crusted with dirt and blood. Flies had gathered around him, drawn to his scent.

One of the boys had found a stick and walked up to the prisoner now, pointing it at his side with the intention of poking. The man flinched away, he clearly hadn’t seen what was coming, he couldn’t in the position he was forced to stand there, Lì surmised. Lì saw only one side of his face, the other was pressed against the hard stone out of lack of slack in his bonds, with his arms wrapped around the post tightly. The boys laughed and continued their assault.

Lì just watched the spectacle with some passive satisfaction. He could see the hands curling, the restrained urge to try to pull his arms free. He saw rivulets of blood coming from below the shackles. The firebender must have tried, and realized that it was futile. Lì turned away, reminding himself that he had some food to deliver.

He did his job and returned via the same route. They were still taunting him. Lì couldn’t see his face at all from his current standpoint, but the young man didn’t seem to be replying, and his tormentors were growing bored. Lì had to get back to his job.

He was sent out again, but the next few deliveries didn’t get him anywhere close to the market square, and then he was busy at the stand until the sun signalled people that it was time to go home. At that point, Ziang and Min Wei came to ask him if he wanted to hang out.

They didn’t comment on his distractedness. They just took him for how he was, always had. And Lì appreciated that.

Thinking into the past, he thought back to when he first came back to the settlement. Upon his return to this town, delirious with fever and dehydration and a festering burn wound that covered his hand and the lower reaches of his arm, many doubted he’d survive. And when he did, they didn’t think of him as anything more than a cripple who couldn’t work. He’d proved them otherwise, and most of the townsfolk accepted him now. But Ziang and Min Wei had stood by his side even after he’d lost everything. They’d glare at anyone who they caught staring at his crippled hand, and make them look away. They’d reply to whoever dared to comment and talk about him behind his back with fists and they would defend him when his skills were called into question.

He appreciated it, even though he didn’t always agree with their ways. But having watched the firebender prince being punished, he suddenly could relate to why they took such a physical approach to defend him. But this was different, this wasn’t about defending, it was about revenge. And it scared Lì that he felt this way.

0ZUKO0

The hours passed with a dreadful slowness. The early morning was calm, but it meant that memories haunted him all the more. He couldn’t feel his arms properly, he was exhausted. and he had no energy for the torment his mind couldn’t let go of. 

The people were steadily growing more bold, he absently noted. Not many had approached and confronted him in the beginning, but they had started to throw things, be it words or rotten food, at him in passing. Sometimes it hurt. But more so, he could feel their gazes. And though it sounded crazy even to his mind, he thought he could feel their malicious intent, their rage.

And then, there were the people who stepped in close, who hit him, poked him, mocked him. Anyone could come up, could do what they wanted. Even children had started to lose their fear of him.

He could do nothing to stop them, with how close he was forced to stand against the pillar, arms wrapped around, one side of his face pressed against the stone, he couldn’t even use fire-breath without risking of harming himself. He could only squirm away when people got too close, and bear the pain when they succeeding in causing him some hurt.

Someone supplied him with water at noon again, he drank, feeling ashamed for accepting to be fed water, but reluctantly knowing that he needed it. His arms felt weird, not quite asleep and shot through with that weird sensation that felt somewhat like ants and ice, all while his skin felt too warm from being in the sun.

He wished for shade. After having been locked in a dark room just days before and wishing for the sun there… this wish felt ironic, but whether the sun actually burned his skin or not, the heat was affecting him more than he liked.

Thrown fruit was collecting at his feet. It only happened a couple of times so far, but it had caught him off guard every time. One had hit his neck and it had taken a few moments until he’d managed to shrug it off, as the slick brown pulp slid over the still open wounds on his back. leaving behind a burning trail. That one had been quite thoroughly spoiled. The smell had made him feel nauseous.

The wind didn’t help in his torture. It was regularly bringing over scents, sometimes bad, more often though, it was the smell of food. It reminded his stomach of the unstable income it had been getting. Sometimes, it would also carry the smell of things gathering around his feet. Though never as intense as when that one fruit had landed in his neck, it reminded him well enough.

He was also acutely aware of his unkempt state. He hadn’t washed since two days before he’d even arrived in this town. That and his untreated wounds were drawing in flies and other insects. He had stopped trying to shake them off, it wasn’t worth the effort and energy.

By the time it was mid-afternoon, Zuko would be thoroughly exhausted. He winced as something hit his back, too hard to be a fruit. He couldn’t see what it was but it might have been a stone.

People had been taunting him all day and sometimes he couldn’t hold his tongue. He’d received laughs for it, and a few hits, too. Bruises were forming all over, across his back, on his arms. Some had kicked his legs, targeting the back of his knee, which had made it buckle and crash his weight into his wrists a few times. Those were burning, too. The man who had kicked him, had taunted him to get up again if he was strong enough, only to repeat the action when he did.

He was glad when the sun finally set behind the rows of houses and the market was starting to clear. It also meant that the guards would come soon to bring him to the sewer to do his business there. At least Zuko expected them to come. He could hold it better today, as he’d drunk less this noon, but the guards took their time in showing up and Zuko was getting nervous, worried.

They did show up eventually, Zuko guessed around seven thirty in the evening. And by that time, Zuko was in a similar state of need to take a leak as the day before. Again, they twisted his arm behind his back, then threw him to the ground. Knowing what was happening didn’t make the experience any less painful. And landing on a half-rotten peach didn’t help, either.

“Get up!” one demanded. When Zuko didn’t move, knowing that his wrists wouldn’t support his weight for a while and his limbs all feeling like jelly anyway, the other quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet roughly. As soon as Zuko seemed to have balanced himself, the other let him go as if he’d been burnt.

“You stink!”

Zuko grit his teeth, ignoring the comment while waiting out the pain his arms were in. He carefully curled his fingers to initiate circulation and looked down at his wrists. The cuts the shackles’ edges had left weren’t deep, but painful nonetheless. He took a step into the direction they’d taken for the past few trips to the sewer.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

Zuko turned around, looking at the spokesman. This one had been here last evening, too. “The sewer.” He carefully replied. He really had to go.

“You go when we take you there, you’re not going on your own, understood?”

“Yes.” There was no point in arguing about his intentions, nor initiating a fight he knew he'd lose.

“Here is a basket. Collect all the waste around the square and throw it down the sewer.” he held out a basket. “Well, go on, take it!..." Hesitatingly Zuko did as told, but then only stood there, lost. He knew they were earth benders, his legs were still chained together, there was no more chance at succeeding with running than the days before. But this wasn't why he was hesitating.

"Damn it, I don’t have all day.” the man growled at him, shoving him forward.

But Zuko didn't make another move. He was weighing his chances that they’d allow him to use the sewer before doing this, if he just asked. He decided to risk it, even if he thought that it would be unlikely.

“May I relieve myself first, please?”

“No!” the man gruffly replied.

“Ah, come on, let him. He even said please.” the other guard chipped in, waving dismissively. He stepped up to Zuko. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

The first guard only grumbled unhappily, but let him pass.

Zuko quietly did his business, complying to the rules of his hands being visible at all times, then reluctantly went to do his task. He was tired, exhausted, but he knew that antagonizing them by refusing would not work out in his favor.

It was a nasty job, but if he was honest, he was kind of glad to be able to stretch his legs for a bit. He felt stiff from standing there all day. Now, he got to see what had been thrown at him, too. For the most part, it was fruits in varying states of decay, but there were also one or two stones. The guards told him to leave those.

He had to cover the whole market square, and after he was finished, he tiredly sat down next to the lithic whipping post, looking at his fruit pulp- and dirt-stained hands.

“May I wash my hands?” The question had been out before he had thought about it.

“No. You got enough favors for today.” the first guard growled. The second one didn’t say anything to dissuade him this time, but he walked over to the well to pump up some up anyway. Zuko observed him, carefully. When the other returned, he just said:

“It’s your water, you can drink it or use it for washing. Whichever you prefer.” He shrugged, ignoring his partner’s annoyed grunt.

In the end, Zuko decided that he needed water in his system more than on his skin, so he reluctantly wiped his hands at the fabric of his trousers. He refused to think about the possibility of infection. He wouldn’t be able to reach all the wounds on his back to clean them properly anyway. He’d just refuse to have infections. Still, the sticky feeling just wouldn’t go away and knowing what he’d touched didn’t help his disgust diminish any. He finally grabbed at some dust to at least reduce the sticky feeling which worked somewhat.

The bread he got was hard this time. He chewed it slowly and took swigs from the water in between. Then, they grabbed him and pulled his legs over to the post, just as they’d done the day before. Zuko tried to twist his legs away, but the struggle was futile. In the end the chain links were embedded in stone again and he was left behind in the dimming light.

As soon as he was alone, he scooted closer to his chained feet, surveying the situation. He wasn’t quite as tired as the day before, and he was determined to use this chance to get away. He looked around for those stones that they’d told him to leave, seeing one about half a meter away. He grabbed it and got to work.

He’d probably worked on it for an hour, his arms ached and his movements had long turned sluggish. He lacked progress to show for his efforts. Unless he had a hammer and chisel, he wasn’t going anywhere. His stone was hopeless against the metal anyway, even if it wasn’t fire Nation steel. Zuko had tried to heat it up to make the chains brittle, to maybe pull them apart, but he wasn’t strong enough. He hadn't managed to heat it up enough to liquify it, or even just stretch it. He wasn’t Azula. And his small stone and rapidly dwindling muscle force didn’t do much of anything. The Firebender groaned in despair. turning to lean against the post, only to reverse the action a moment later… he’d forgotten about the wounds on his back again

It was hopeless, he realised. He wasn’t getting out of the chains this way.

0ZUKO0 

_ Late that evening, B _ à _ o came back. _

Zuko had lain down, exhausted. He'd wanted to sleep. He knew, he should be thinking of a way to escape, but he could hardly grasp his thoughts, much less form them into a string that made sense, so he was just laying there, half asleep. His muddled mind only reacted to the hasty gait when it realized that it was coming straight for him.

Zuko scrambled up quickly, but the man was close enough to kick him before he could fully rise. Zuko sprawled onto the ground and the man placed a foot on his back to prevent him from getting up. The sole of the shoe was pressing into the whip marks and made Zuko grunt in pain.

The brief moment where he’d seen the man had burned into his mind, and when the man opened his mouth to tell him to cease struggling, Zuko knew. This was the man that the other one had called Bào.

Bào kept him pinned against the ground. Zuko found no way to throw him off, his legs still bound and all. Zuko tried to scream, but fumbling soon gave way to exposure and he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. It happened again. It was the same man, and that his own hands weren’t bound didn’t seem to make the slightest bit of difference.

This man, unlike the other one, hadn’t given him any chance to fight at all.

When Bào finally straightened and got off, Zuko only had one thought on his mind:

Why?

He didn’t know the answer, he just laid there on the ground, breathing harshly, suppressing the urge to cry. His body felt like jelly and he couldn’t bring himself to move.

00LI00

Lì was laying in bed, wide awake. He had enjoyed the evening with his friends, but the thoughts of the captive at the market square hadn’t left him alone. It didn’t now, either. The young man had gained more bruises, more wounds over the day. People were getting more forward with approaching him. Their insults were becoming more cruel and Lì couldn’t help but think ‘serves you right’.

It felt wrong to feel this way, and at the same time it felt as right like nothing else in the world. Lì wondered how he could even think about another human this way. Below the pale skin, the blood was just as red as his. The man was human, just like he, and he bled, just like he did. But the man was a Firebender, he was said to be their Prince. Would his skin burn if fire touched it? Would it? Would it?

Lì wasn’t sure, but what he was sure of was that the boy had caused some minor burns among the soldiers that had been ordered to subdue him. Fire in a fight was destructive, he bet that the boy never had been burned, seeing that he controlled the element. Lì half-wished someone would try, even though the thought of the smell of burned flesh still made him nauseous.

Firebenders needed to be taught the result of their bending: that it hurt people; how the pain they caused, felt. How ugly and downright sickening it smelled; how hard it was to heal the damage. He shuddered, he couldn’t understand how he could wish someone to go through that, and at the same time he felt so damn justified in the need to show the firebenders what they did.

He had a hard time going to sleep.

0ZUKO0

Zuko must have drifted off despite the fear of someone else approaching and doing something, that came over him in shivers that night. Because when he woke up, it was to a painful kick to his side. Disorientedly he opened his eyes, only to realize that the sky barely showed hints of dawn. It had to be somewhere around three in the morning. What was going on?

Zuko stared at the silhouette of a man in front of him. It wasn’t one of his guards, but he clearly was a guard, or soldier. A far away torch dimly revealed that he was grinning, eyes glinting with sick excitement.

“Good morning _ Your Highness _!” He sneered. Zuko didn’t reply, but quickly sat up, trying to get into a better position to defend himself. The man didn’t move to stop him, his grin only widened.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” he said as Zuko stopped moving, still uncertain of what was going on, then the man quickly stepped up and threw a kick that Zuko was barely able to block. He would have evaded it just fine had his legs not been bound, but not having freedom of mobility to his feet was difficult to handle, especially with as little leeway as he had. The foot length of chain he had, was just enough to stand in front of the pillar.

Zuko quickly dropped into a more balanced stance, moving his arms to firebend. The man however sidestepped and quickly grabbed his arm, twisting it onto his back and it dawned to Zuko that this man was well-versed in hand-to-hand combat. Zuko stumbled at the movement that the other forced him to follow, the chains of his feet were pulled tight, making him fall forward. The man let him go just as those guards did when they let him lose, but Zuko could at least break the fall this time.

The man was on top of him and Zuko felt the dreaded deja-vu of what had happened the prior evening. He could smell the man. The pungency of sweat, the ugly breath when the man opened his mouth. It was free of alcohol, but that didn’t make it any better.

Zuko twisted, trying to throw the man off. Surprisingly enough, the man leaned back and let him do it, only to grab both his wrists a moment later, forcing him to lean backwards until his back touched the ground.  
  


His wrists hurt, burned, Zuko could feel his fear doubling each passing second and tried to breathe through his nose in an attempt to keep calm enough to get out of the situation. He twitched his arms to see if he could break the hold. Knowing he couldn’t, but trying anyway, he threw in all his might just a moment later. The man held his arms in position, and Zuko could feel the strength in the hold. He could feel stones digging into his back, dust clinging to reopening wounds.

With a desperate cry he tried to throw the man off again. He couldn’t deal with this. To his surprise, the man let that happen: this time, let himself be flipped. And Zuko knew it had to be a matter of choice, because he had felt the strength in the hold before. The firebender felt wary, but quickly grabbed the other’s neck, he had to get this man to leave him alone.

Zuko flinched as he felt hands on his waistband, trying to pull down. Zuko was glad that the cord was doing it’s job in keeping his trousers in place. Desperately, he pressed harder, he only had to do this for a minute or two and the other would lose consciousness. Zuko wasn’t intending to kill him, just to get him to leave him alone. Maybe the man carried some kind of weapon that he could use to pick the lock or threaten him by. The man grunted as he kept fumbling for the knot, then suddenly moved up, and grabbed his wrists and squeezed, hard…

With a strangled scream Zuko let go. The man had much more strength in his grip than he had first had let on. That his wrists were already raw from the shackles only made matters worse. The man took a deep breath and grinned in an unsettling way, then, he sat up and flipped Zuko around so he was sitting there with Zuko’s back against his chest, and held him fast across his middle section, pinning one arm to his side. Looking over Zuko’s shoulder, he started fumbling with the knot of Zuko’s waistband again. Zuko desperately tried to pry the hand off, squirming and buckling.

“No!” he grit out as the man loosened his hold to grab his other arm with the hand around his midsection. “No! Stop it! NO! Let go! Let go!” Zuko repeated, getting more and more desperate. He didn’t want this to happen. He took a deep breath. This wasn’t the ideal position and he’d have to be careful not to set anything on fire, but he’d try this. He breathed out flame and the man yelped, feeling the heat lick on his skin. Then he chuckled.

“Good, good. You keep fighting and we will see who will win.” He said in a pleased voice.

“We can’t have anyone get burned, though, so please take this token of appreciation. He moved his free hand to what Zuko guessed a pocket in his trousers and shoved something into Zuko’s mouth just a moment later. Zuko retched as the offending ball of fabric touched the back of his palate.

Zuko tried to move his legs to throw him off, but the chains were already stretched and he couldn’t pull up his legs at all. Zuko tried to breathe fire through his nose, but the flame was weak.

0ZUKO0

Zuko fought until the very end and the sick thing was, he knew the man had let him fight. Maybe it had been amusing to him, Zuko didn’t know, didn’t want to know.

But he couldn’t go back to sleep after the man had left. His limbs were tired, he could feel himself shaking in the cool breeze and he wasn’t entirely sure that it was only the temperature. He felt awful. Disgusting. Ashamed, humiliated. He felt that way and at the same time he felt nothing at all.

Empty, tired.

He leaned his back against the post, using the pain of those wounds to distract himself; too tired to move, too awake to lay back down and sleep.

He wasn’t sure if he’d drifted off again or not, but he was aware when the morning guards approached and immediately prepared to fight and flee. Morning was the only time when he was rested and unbound from the pillar, he had to use this chance… He didn’t care about his pressing bladder, he wanted out.

Too bad that the guards had probably expected it. Even more shitty, that they were both Earthbenders and Zuko merely a hungry, weakened, something with shackled legs. Needless to say, he hadn’t gotten far. And he had his trip to the sewer cut short, and given him food and water while keeping the lower half of his body encased in stone that fit so snuggly, it hurt, and certainly didn’t help his bladder-issue.

That morning had been the first time he'd been forced to wet his pants out of lack of other options, and he already knew that it probably wouldn't be the last time.

Another day that had started with humiliation, pain and most of all, frustration. His escape attempt had failed. He was already longing for the evening. He couldn’t give up.

00LI00

_ Hatred may have started eating at him, but there still was this spark of compassion shining through. _

The day started fairly normal, getting up, hanging around the market square until everyone went to their work respectively. And as of the new addition to the pattern, keeping an eye on the captive. He’d gone up to the center first thing in the morning. He’d seen the wet patches of fabric between the captive’s legs and he’d seen the captives lips pressed together in whatever the hell he was feeling. Probably humiliation, maybe pain? Lì could see fresh rivulets of blood from the wrist. He could also see dried blood from below the shackles on his ankles.

Serves him right, Lì had thought. The prisoner thought this was pain? Well, he knew nothing. A firebender wouldn’t get hurt through fire, so the guy wouldn’t know anything about the shock of a part of yourself being set on fire; about the lingering pain of a healing burn; the fear of infection; the feeling when it set in.

His friends had come running up, Ziang coming at him with a friendly slap on his back. Lì tore his gaze away from the firebender and went on with his day.

He went back to watch the captive during his pre-noon break. He saw how the firebender held his face against the pillar, effectively blocking one half from view. Lì wasn’t very close, but he saw the sudden flinch, the tensing up. He saw the way the eyebrows furrowed in pain, pale skin in stark contrast to his dark hair and Lì looked around to see what had caused the reaction. He only saw a man that was passing by, back turned to the captive. He’d probably thrown something at him.

Lì pressed his lips together and turned away. This man was Fire Nation. He belonged to the people who had killed his family.

Lì couldn’t entirely ignore the captive’s plight and the surge of pity it stirred up, but he was trying hard to squash it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thanks to ML8991 for beta-reading and everyone who supported the story so far.
> 
> I hope this chapter was interesting for you, too. Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to ML8991, for discussing ideas with me, plus proofreading!  
Thanks also to nbj for commenting, we appreciate it.  
Further thanks to everyone who supported this story with Kudos so far

0ZUKO0 

_ His focus had started to change. The boredom, coupled with a fear of having to face malicious intent at any moment, made it shift. Subconsciously he’d started to reach outwards with his senses, feeling for ill intent, feeling for where people were, how they were moving. And not to turn crazy over what he thought to sense, he often turned deep inside, kindling, caressing his inner flame, and trying to think up escape tactics. _

Clouds were drawing in, as they had been for a couple of hours now. Not that Zuko twisted his head much to check up on the sky. He could feel it in the warm wind, the oppressive humidity, the stillness of the earth, and occasionally the odd line in people’s talks. And people were starting to move more quickly, now. The first few vendors had even started to pack up and leave early as the wind picked up.

For Zuko, the day had gone as expected so far, every day a bit worse as he felt his body weakening and the crowd getting more bold. So the change of weather brought him hope for an early respite.

He could often feel the hateful stares… Sometimes he wondered if he could really feel them, or if he was just imagining things. He could feel the acute pain when a projectile hit home on his skin… he knew he wasn’t imagining that, but the anticipation and lack of preparation when it actually happened was nerve wracking.

So were the insults on his continuously sleep deprived, weakened mindfulness of perseverance. He had started snapping at people. Hypocrites. They accused him of hurting people when they treated him like this. His tongue was often quicker than his brain, and his body was paying.

He thought he could feel their hateful gazes again, it made him shudder, which wasn’t helped by a gnawing awareness that someone was standing somewhere behind him, and he couldn’t even confirm if it was true. Some of those people never came close, he just felt them being there and it was freaking him out.

He tried to distract himself with focusing on his inner flame. It was reassuring him. He knew he’d been bending subconsciously. He’d been reducing the sun’s glare on his skin, keeping it from burning him. The clouds that had drawn up had allowed him to take a break. But he’d barely been aware of it even so. He really needed to start paying more attention.

The wind was coming in gushes now. blowing sand up and urging the people to disperse. Zuko shivered despite the warm temperature. He had closed his eyes and was just focusing on breathing.

To his surprise, the guards came early, too. Some merchants were still packing up when they arrived and unlocked his hands. Like the day before, he was granted a trip to the sewer before ordering him what seemed to have become his duty - collecting litter. He had played with the thought and chance this might present all day. He knew his chances were low at best, but he didn’t see any other option.

He dutifully collected the spoiled fruit, then ventured towards where the stands had stood, collecting whatever else was on the ground. He didn’t know about the layout of the city, but he just hoped to get away and hide for a little while, he didn’t care where, and he would gladly hide for days straight if it meant he could get away.

A guard was following him at a leisurely pace, just a few steps behind. Zuko, seeing as he was about as far from the center as he was about to get, and as close to an alley as possible with his duty, leaned down as if to pick something up, acted like he was putting it in the basket, instead grabbed a fruit and quickly aimed his throw at the guards face, turning around and breaking into a run all while grabbing another projectile to throw.

He’d almost gotten to the alley entrance, hoping to duck away in it, when suddenly, a wall rose in front of him. He slithered in his attempt to stop, still crashing into it, but immediately trying to go a different direction. He stumbled, as the earth bender had changed the topography below his feet to throw him off balance, the chain between his feet rattled loudly. Zuko turned around to defend himself with firebending, throwing a wave of fire into the guard’s general direction, then, the ground opened up and swallowed his feet up to his ankles.

“Give it up. You’re not getting away!”

And Zuko knew, he wouldn’t, not as long as he couldn’t move his feet. He let his arm sink in defeat, feeling tired. The guard approached him in calm strides, Zuko could hear the earth wall retreat back into the ground behind him. The guard stopped about a meter away and Zuko could feel his heart pounding up to his neck in apprehension on what would happen now. He couldn’t move. The man did a single, quick, sharp movement and Zuko’s feet were pushed out of the earth with enough force that he shot a few inches out above the ground and lost his balance upon landing. He fell, the basket's contents tumbling out.

“Get up! clean this up and finish your job. Don’t even think about running away again.”

Zuko shivered, he had expected to get locked up right away, and he was glad that that wasn’t the case, but the guard was following very closely now, he knew he wouldn’t get far and as his adrenaline levels went down, coupled with realizing that the guard wouldn’t touch him, it left him feeling tired.

He dumped the waste in the sewer and was told to go back to the center. He fisted his hands, he couldn’t give up yet, he wasn’t bound yet, he had to try. He broke into a run, again, adjusting his movements to cope with the chain connecting his feet. It didn’t take long before he face-planted into the ground, unsure if he had caused the fall with his movements being too hurried, or if the earth bender had something to do with it.

It didn’t matter, because the earthbender took advantage of his fall, planting a foot on his back and grabbing one arm, twisting it to his back before pulling him up again.

“You’re only hurting yourself further with your escape attempts, I could punish you, but I won’t, I don’t need to. Think about it yourself. If these laughable escape attempts are all you can come up with, you might just want to try to save your energy instead. That's what I'd do if I were you. You’re only risking to get hurt further with them, and not everyone is as lenient as I. Many will jump at a reason to hurt you further.” He moved to encase the chain links in stone again. 

They tossed him some bread and handed him a bowl full of water (Try not to break it, will you?), then left him alone. It didn’t take long until the first drops were falling from the sky. Zuko leaned against the pole with his side, leaning his head against it. He welcomed the drops, hoping that the rainfall would intensify so he could scrub down the dirt accumulated properly, instead of just letting it wash down.

He felt a gaze on him again, looking up from the corner of his good eye. The market square was mostly abandoned now, but a few meters away, a youth stood, staring at him, unmoving in the wind, fisting one long sleeve while the other one loosely fluttered in the wind. Zuko fixated his gaze on the silhouette, dreading why the boy was still here.

00LI00

_ Looking at the weather, Lì knew that tomorrow people wouldn’t come to the market square. It would mean a calm and uninteresting day for matters with the captive, and Lì wanted to drink in said one’s plight one more time when the guards came and the opportunity presented itself. _

Lì had helped close up the food stand and everything, then, once he was free, went to observe what was going on at the whipping post once more. The people had been leaving the captive alone for the most part, in a hurry to clear up the market square and leave before the storm hit. On days like these, his friends would meet in the local tavern to hang out for a drink or two. Lì wasn’t in a hurry though, he lived close, and the pub was just around the corner.

He hadn’t seen how the guards took care of him yet, so when they had unbound the man from the whipping post, taking him over to the sewer, he watched from afar. He heard a pained noise when they loosened his arms and again when they threw him to the ground, he didn’t even seem able to break the fall with his arms.

The firebender was dirt-caked and sweaty, his movements languid and sluggish as he attempted to stand up when told to. They spoke in low tones and Lì was too far away to hear what they were saying. The man slowly stumbled into one direction, one of the guards following closely, a basket in hand.

Lì witnessed the two escape attempts and witnessed with satisfaction how they were cut short. He was a bit disappointed at the guards for not enforcing any punishment. The man was saying something, again too quiet to hear, then refastened the firebenders foot-chain to the post. Lì had seen the defeated slump the young man sank into as the man spoke. The man handed him bread and a bowl of water, then left.

The man put the bowl aside, holding the bread loosely as he leaned his shoulder against the pillar, head low. The first raindrops started falling, causing Lì to look up. The sky was dark, heavy clouds signalling the downpour that was about to happen.

A new surge of anger went through him. No one would hurt the Firebender in this weather, there would be no one to punish the Firebender for the failed escape attempts, and Lì wanted to see punishment. The Firebender had dared to use fire, he clearly didn’t know, or care what it could inflict.

The captive looked up, stared at him, eyes cold and wary, warning him. His face was bruised and caked with days old grime. His gaze, eye size was mismatched, one eye nearly closed and the skin looked weirdly coloured, he could also see a tear trail, that the other eye lacked, the man hadn’t really been crying then. Maybe it was swollen, he thought. Lì couldn’t really tell by all the bruising, dirt and cuts. The captive’s eyes flickered away, over the empty square, returning to him with growing wariness. Lì stared back, daring, but not moving. He didn’t feel ready to confront the firebender, especially not when he had his arms loose and was able to firebend. But he could see that he was making the bound man uncomfortable and revelled in that.

“What do you want!” The captive finally bit out, his voice was rough with hints of soreness in it. Lì just stood there, staring down at the young man, who started showing subtle signs of agitation the longer he didn’t answer. Then a gush of wind came, bringing heavier drops and Lì decided that he should probably get out of the rain.

He turned around without a word and walked into the direction of the pup, where he’d meet up with Ziang and Min Wei.

0ZUKO0

The youth had left abruptly, without gracing Zuko with an answer and it left Zuko uneasy. The boy had looked younger, brown hair, somewhat scrawny and over all not someone Zuko would usually categorize as a threat. But the glare the other had directed at him had spoken volumes, and not of something Zuko cared to discover. The hatred had been tangible.

Single raindrops soon turned into strings of them and Zuko started chewing on the hard bread, not minding all that much that it was getting soaked, as it was easier to get down that way. As soon as he was done, he started rubbing the dirt off his skin, movements sluggish. He was tired, but the wish to feel somewhat clean again was stronger, he tried to reach every spot on his back, scrubbing the best as he could as the rain started to cool down the air considerably.

After a quick look around to check if he was really alone, he finally pulled down his trousers, feeling awkward but also desperate to get as clean as possible, everywhere. While he was at it, he also took note of the state of his knees, bloody from all the falls they’d had to take. Just as expected, his trousers had ripped at these places, but Zuko ignored that, glad that they still provided cover for his legs, well mostly. At last, he tried cleaning the wounds below the shackles around his ankles, then just sat there and let the rain wash over him.

He felt alone, with only the close-by tavern sending over quiet sounds and a little light from the lantern outside. If he focused really hard, he could almost feel the little flame that was eating at the oil within the lantern, protected from wind and rain by the glass pieces surrounding it.

He felt the rain turn colder quickly now, trousers clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He sank down onto the muddy ground and rolled up into a tight ball, as far as that was possible. His hair was laying slick against his forehead and the rain hid the tears that were falling quietly now.

He had started shivering, calling upon his inner flame to warm himself. It flickered weakly and Zuko felt defeated. The mans words kept repeating. He’d called his escape attempts silly, and they were, but Zuko had seen no other option, still didn’t. What hurt the most was, that the man had suggested he’d stop and advised him to preserve his strength, instead of punishing him. He could handle punishment, he couldn’t handle this. He was already getting weaker by the day, he could feel it. He was running out of time to escape. They weren’t giving him enough food to sustain himself. He was sure that said guard was aware of that, too. Which made it all the more cruel.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, and when he did, it was an uneasy slumber. He kept waking up suddenly, feeling like someone was there, when he was obviously alone. He felt phantom pains of what had happened the nights before, and even though it seemed obvious that no one would come in the heavy rain, he couldn’t help but dread the possibility anyway.

00LI00

He’d arrived at the tavern before he’d been completely soaked, but his clothes had gotten reasonably damp on the way there… He didn’t really care, he felt kinda bad for scaring the captive (on his way back he’d come to the conclusion that the Firebender’s gaze had been a form of apprehension), but in a way he also felt quite satisfied.

Ziang and Min Wei were already waiting for him at their table with a couple of other friends.

“Lì, what took you so long?”

“Last delivery.” he quickly lied. Ziang looked at him critically, but motioned for him to sit anyway. “So, what did I miss?” He asked.

“Well, for one, the tavern wrote out the next cricket-crab tournament they’re hosting. It’s in four days, you gonna be here, too?”

“Probably.” Lì ordered his drink as the waitress came by at that moment.

“Chian will bring his this time.”

“Yeah, he’s ready!” Chian bumped his fist into the air.

“Nice” Lì said, absentmindedly.

The talk continued, quickly slipping to the theme of the week: The captive at the market square. It started with: “Shae Lìng threw all her bad fruit at the Fire Prince this morning, Komei saw and decided to rub it in, like literally.” Chian laughed, quickly followed by Ziang and Min Wei. Lì cracked a reluctant smile. He felt strangely detached. Usually he was against all bullying, Ziang and Min Wei only cared when it concerned him, but having been at the receiving end of it, he really wasn’t comfortable with it. This however was a special case. A personal vendetta in a way.

“We should do something like that, too!” Lao said then. He was someone Lì wasn’t all that comfortable with, because he had a tendency to be cruel about things, so usually Lì would have said something, he didn’t try to dissuade them this time though.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Ever heard of that super spicy sauce from the Fire Nation? My mom once wanted to try it, threw out a lot of money for it, too... you know her love to experiment, but it ended up being too hot to eat and so she never used it again…”

“That’s really cruel.” Ziang said at that, throwing a thoughtful glance at Lì, who quickly looked at his drink.

“The Fire Nation is cruel, too. So what? and anyway, if he’s Fire Nation, he should be used to that shit!”

“You’d get into trouble for taking it anyway, your mom hates when you use something of hers for your pranks.” Min Wei replied at that.

“Nah, I’ll ask her if she minds me taking some of it, we won’t need the whole bottle.”

“You could just as well use alcohol. Less expensive, less issues with your mom.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that, it’s not Fire Nation. And anyway, sauce sticks to skin, alcohol doesn’t.”

“Whatever.”

“Where is our voice of reason today? Lì? You’re not saying anything.”

Lì, looked up, uncomfortable at the subject. Yeah, usually he’d have been against it, but this time was different. He could still see the wave of flames, the Firebender had produced just this afternoon. He found that while he wasn’t ready to participate, no, he wouldn’t go that far, he didn’t really care if the others would do this. The opposite, he wanted to witness the pain.

“Go ahead, tell me when you do it, I want to watch.”

“Wow,” Chian said, “wasn’t expecting that!”

Ziang and Min Wei regarded Lì quietly, thoughtfully. They, too, were surprised, but they’d find out where that had come from as soon as they were alone.

0ZUKO0

He’d continued to be startled awake all throughout the night. First, it had been the reasonable people, leaving the tavern as soon as the rain had reduced to some sort of a drizzle. Then the drunks came. None of them concerned themselves with the captive at the market square, but Zuko couldn’t help but fear that someone would eventually notice him and come anyway.

His skin felt clammy and his throat was sore. He hoped that this weren’t signs of developing a cold, he really didn’t need that on top of everything else. He’d been drinking, letting the bowl refill with rain water, didn’t want to drink too much not wanting to need the loo when bound to the post again. He timed it so he’d need to go in the morning, when the guards would come.

The early morning hours came and the wind and rain picked up again. Zuko just curled into a ball once more, trying to keep warm but failing with no external source of heat around. The only source of fire was that tavern’s lantern, which occasionally, he tried to feel for, but it eventually flickered out of existence, too. Somehow it left a sore spot in his conscience for a moment. Time passed and at some point Zuko decided against trying to sleep, sitting up and leaning against the post instead. He was trying to stay out of the wind. It should be time for the market square to fill, anyway.

It might have been time, but no-one came. Sometimes, people crossed the market square, there were some who stopped a few feet in front of him and stared at him for a while too, but no guards had arrived so far...the weather was cold and wet and as noon approached, it dawned to Zuko, that they wouldn’t. By that time, he’d been holding it for hours, clenching his teeth. Well, if that was the case, and his hands were free. He’d just do it away from the post. Upon a quick look around that told him that he was alone for the time being, he did so.

The weather cleared up in the afternoon, but the market square stayed abandoned of stands. There was a group of children that came to play some sort of ball throwing game, not paying him much heed at first. That was until a group of slightly elder kids came by and suggested using him as a target. There was a girl that was quite enthusiastic about it and had surprising aim for her age. Zuko was glad when he managed to finally snatch the ball from them. But then he was stuck with not knowing what to do with the ball. He awkwardly held it, staring at the kids. A small boy came running, holding an appropriate distance from him, then shyly opened his mouth.

“Please don’t burn the ball. It was a present from my older brother before he went off to war.” He fidgeted, obviously worried for his precious toy. Zuko swallowed heavily. This... he couldn’t deal with this, where were the parents that were supposed to get these kids away from ‘The Evil Firebender’, as he heard he had been dubbed? Instead of waiting, he spoke.

“Will you keep hitting me with the ball?”

“Uh, I suppose that wasn’t very nice. I’m sorry, won’t do it again.” 

“All of you?” Zuko asked carefully, he didn’t want to give back the ball only to be targeted again. He looked around, seeing all heads nod, some sheepishly, some a bit guilty.

“Fine.” Zuko threw the ball lightly to the boy, who could have caught it had he not been cowering away in fear. The ball fell over him and harmlessly fell down, rolling a bit in the mud.

Zuko turned away, only then noticing that the same youth from yesterday evening had apparently witnessed the scene. Though when Zuko caught his gaze, the youth turned away and left with hasty steps, a small box tugged below his arm, as Zuko saw now.

The kids eventually left too, because a group of giggling girls had half-chased them away.

They approached him, and he recognized the one with the most high quality fabric as the girl who had stood close to the mayor. Probably his daughter.

“Hey, Fire Prince, how did you get that scar on your face?” one of the girls called out.

He tried ignoring them as they threw in more questions, coupled with taunts. A stone hit his upper arm. He was reminded of Azula and angrily looked up: “Fuck off!”

They giggled again, then the leading girl, the one with the expensive clothing, spoke:

“My father says you’re wanted, that you’re a traitor, and that the Fire Princess put a bounty on your head. Wouldn’t be pretty if she got you, wouldn’t it? I suppose family ties don’t mean much in the Fire Nation?!”

Zuko blanched. If Azula found him here, he’d definitely be done for.

“Luckily for you, my father had a different idea, we’re not really interested to work together with the Fire Nation, so we’re keeping you for ourselves.” She smirked, a gloved hand covering her mouth. “You remember what my father told you?”

Zuko did, and by now, he acutely understood what the mayor had meant.

“That’s your worth, here in the village, if you want to live a little longer, then keep us entertained!”

Zuko shuddered as she left. The girl had recalled unpleasant memories. His status as traitor, outcast and unloved by his own family, the only exception being Uncle! Zuko was regretting ever having separated from him. And he felt guilty for having treated Uncle the way he had. He knew, Iroh had only meant the best for him. He knew that, but he had ignored the elder’s words and done his own thing, and Iroh had let him, despite the obvious hurt in his eyes.

He felt worthless, and he felt guilty. Even more so now that he wished that his uncle would come and save him. He didn’t feel worthy of this love, and with what had been happening in the past days, he felt less and less like himself, even less lovable than he’d been before separating from Uncle. Would Uncle even want to keep associating with him if he learned all that had happened to him?

Zuko shuddered, feeling cold, he was sitting on the muddy ground, pants only drying slowly, fabric sticking to his frame, including his skimmed knees.

One single guard eventually came to toss him a piece of bread and refill him the bowl in the evening, he wasn’t released from the pillar. The guard only checked upon the chain after shoving Zuko to the ground and holding him there, chest pressed into the ground so he wouldn’t attack him. He quickly left after doing his duty, leaving Zuko alone once more.

Zuko was glad. He felt exhausted even though he’d been mostly sitting all day. Seeing that no one was really coming, he got up, walking in place to warm up a bit, but eventually lay back down to sleep. The sky was still covered in clouds, it might come to rain again, and while he didn’t mind it for the fact that it kept people away, he did mind it for the simple reason that he seemed too low on energy to keep himself warm… It was an entirely weird feeling for him as Firebender in this mild climate.

0ZUKO0

He was visited by that guard-soldier again, late that night. Zuko fought and lost. And wondered if it was worth the fight, if it happened anyway. He wondered if the screams and fighting were only prolonging his suffering with this man, or if it brought him through quicker. The man seemed to revel in his screams, he encouraged Zuko’s struggling, he let it happen, only to overpower him again. Zuko wondered what would happen if he didn’t resist at all.

In the dead of night, when no one was there to witness, he cried in desperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback helps me to understand how things are perceived and also to get better in writing.  
Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to ML8991 for the betaing work.  
Further thanks to Emiko who left a review and all those lovely kudos that various people have been leaving behind :)
> 
> I appreciate it.

0ZUKO0

_ There were many things that proved scary. But one of the scariest things was probably his body starting to betray him, to fail him. _

He was growing weaker, he knew it. He felt it in the moments when he rose to his feet too fast and black spots flickered in his vision; by the way in which previously easy movements started lacking strength, and his legs started feeling wobbly sometimes, unreliable. He wasn’t getting enough to sustain himself, and he couldn’t help but suspect that that was their plan.

The guards had come the next morning after that rainy day, and carried on as if the day before hadn’t ever happened. Zuko wanted to try another attempt, but his legs were feeling like jelly and the words of the guard two days before still haunted him.  _ Plan the escape better or preserve strength _ , the man had said. Zuko needed to get food, he’d already gotten less yesterday, because they hadn’t come in the morning. He was hungry, he felt weak and he hurt from what had happened at night. Things kept getting worse and Zuko felt the first signs of getting a cough.

The market square had filled, and people were back with their fruits and their insults, their hits and their kicks… Zuko felt too tired to snap at them, he felt defeated, worthless. And though he knew it was wrong, giving in to believing some of their words was so easy.

He’d always been at the social sidelines, not quite belonging anywhere, or with anyone… It hadn’t been that hard to slip into the status of an outcast. He’d never felt like he really belonged in the first place, especially not since his grandfather’s death and his mother’s disappearance from his life.

He’d felt alone from then onward. And Uncle had only re-entered his life much later. Zuko had often felt like Iroh saw him as a replacement for his loss, but Lu Ten had been very different and Iroh never compared them, never mixed up their names. It was easy to believe that Iroh focused on him to replace his loss, but there were little things, little actions on Iroh’s part that made it clear that, though he thought of Zuko as a son, he didn’t think of him as Lu Ten.

Zuko had a hard time accepting Iroh’s presence in his life even so. The old man, even though a masterbender of an incredible level, seemed so weak in his outlook in life. Still, he’d been the one that ended up coming with him and continuing to teach him after his banishment, and Zuko, though he wasn’t patient for Iroh’s way of teaching, he’d seen the value in some of it. And Iroh had been a constant presence in his life after his fall from grace. He’d taken life on a dilapidated ship over the comforts of a life in court. Zuko couldn’t really understand it, but he’d been glad, even if he hadn’t been able to show it.

Iroh had been a supporting presence. For the first time in his life, there had been no one dictating his daily routine, but the promise of return if he brought the Avatar had controlled his whole life anyway.

Then he’d messed up at the Northern Water Tribe, and now he was stuck here. Wrists hurting, back bloody and bruised, skimmed knees and so many other injuries to add to the list. And he could feel a cough developing on top of everything else.

He’d been stuck at this post for how many days now? Was it seven, or already eight? Zuko wasn’t sure anymore, he tended to space out in the long periods of waiting for something to happen, if no one was forcing him to pay attention. He had found it happen naturally, and it was easier than to think about things at this point. Despite having had a day not strung to the whipping post, he felt more exhausted than before, having been out in the cold rain the whole time had lapped further at his energy reserves.

But the words of the mayor’s daughter still stuck in his mind, as did the words of the guard. He’d been reduced to mere entertainment and no matter what he did, he seemed to be losing in one way or another.

00LI00

Ziang and Min Wei were waiting for Lì when he entered the market square. A tad disappointed to be robbed of his few personal minutes of captive-watching, he made his way over to them, waving and trying to hide his reaction.

“Hi Lì.” They greeted and he nodded back. Ziang looked as if he was on a mission, and somehow Lì felt like the subject of interest. It soon turned out he was right.

“So Lì, that was an unusual request yesterday, coming from you! Anything we should know about?”

“Uh, I… I don’t know.”

“Why are you trying to hide it?”

“Hide what? I’m not hiding anything.” He’d said quickly.

“Your hate for the Firebender. Seriously, why? Did you think we would judge you for it?”

“I… not really, no.”

“See, we all hate them, but especially you should feel entitled to hate them, you suffered the most from their hand out of all of us.”

“Probably, but it still feels wrong.”

“Why would it feel wrong? They hurt you, you don’t have to feel bad if one of them is hurt!”

“That’s the problem, I’m not usually like that, no matter whether people deserve it or not. But now, I feel it is so strong, it’s overwhelming.  _ That  _ feels wrong. And I know he wasn’t the one that hurt me, he’s too young, it’s not his fault.”

“So what? He’s their Prince, he’s the son of the man who ordered and allowed the Firebender to do the things they did to you!”

“It just feels wrong anyway, okay?” Lì said in protest.

0ZUKO0

The slap to his back had pulled him out of his reverie. He’d stopped paying attention in the midst of the business of the market square activities. So far, no one had bothered him and coupled with his tiredness, he’d lost his focus to be prepared. The constant fight to stay alert was exhausting, sometimes he couldn’t help it, but apparently there were times that his mind went away so far that he didn’t register people approach anymore. Somehow it scared him, that loss of awareness, and somehow it felt relaxing.

Another blow hit the back of his legs, causing him to buckle and wince away from the unexpected shock of pain. He grit his teeth.

“Too bad you’re bound to the post. Would be more fun if you’d actually be able to try to evade.” The man with the rod said. “And what’s the fun of throwing something at you if you can’t even see and fear it hitting you. The man made a quick movement, and suddenly, there was a knife pointed against the stone in front of Zuko’s nose. Zuko violently flinched.

The man kept the knife in position and turned around to the crowd. “Don’t you agree?” He called out loudly. “He’s been able to hide his face all this time, don’t you want to see the fear there, too?”

Some people cheered.

“And just imagine, his front has been pressed against the whipping post all this time, nicely protected. Wouldn’t we want to see that instead of the mess on his back? We could paint a blank canvas, wouldn’t that be nice?”

More people cheered.

“Come on guards! Let us have our fun, that’s what he’s here for, isn’t he? Let’s see that front of his! Lets see if he really is human!”

Zuko clenched his teeth, squinting his eyes shut and just wishing that the guards would stay away. His front wasn’t a blank canvas, the nights had left traces, there were scratches at his chest and his skin showed bruising from kicks to his side, but he knew that wouldn’t matter, his back probably looked horrible, but his front still looked mostly fine. He felt that his back had been making the people a tad bit more reluctant, as it was visible proof to his pain.

The crowd had picked up on the demand and they were shouting for the keys of his locks. It was loud, and Zuko could feel his fear rising, the man had removed the knife from before his face, but Zuko had already seen what kind of knife it was.

There was cheering and applause and Zuko felt sweat break as someone else stepped up behind him. Zuko’s fingers clung to the chains, for the first time wishing for them not to give way.

“I’m allowed to free his hands, but not his feet lest there’s a second approved guard here.”

“Ah, that should suffice, we’ll just turn him around and relock his arms.” The man with the knife spoke and Zuko clawed at his chains even more when hands moved to the lock with key.

“Doesn’t seem to want to let go of his new best friend.” the guard laughed. prying his fingers off the chain as soon as the shackle was open. His arm was twisted to his back, much like usually when they unbound him, but this time, he wasn’t thrown to the ground, instead, both arms were held tightly as he was forcefully turned around, stumbling over the short chains that kept his feet connected to the stone. He barely had a chance to arrange his feet as not to fall, when they stretched out his arms and tried to pull them backwards towards the shackles embedded in stone. 

Of course, it not being possible anatomically, their forceful pulling hurt, and Zuko shouted out in pain, fearing dislocation. He didn’t have enough strength to bring his arms to his front, and they had his back roughly pulled against the pillar. Luckily, they seemed to realize fairly quickly that this wouldn’t work and finally let him move his arms downwards into a more natural position as they discussed what they’d do now. Zuko let his head sink, this was bad, but he had no means to keep them from doing whatever they would decide.

They tested if they’d be able to bind his hands together behind the pillar at a lower, more natural level, but they could see without having to remove the encased wrist shackles from their spot, that it still would be too far apart and the eartbender refused to adjust the diameter of the pillar, saying that his bending wasn’t precise enough for that.

“Oh, you know what, let’s just get old Fu’s throwing board and put it between him and the pillar, healthier for the knives anyway.” The knife-man finally said and Zuko could hear voices of agreement and the promise to get it right away. They still held his arms tightly and Zuko’s heart beat uncomfortably fast. He knew how even a supposedly trained knife thrower could be quite inaccurate, and he wasn’t sure if they weren’t going to hit him on purpose anyway. He did not want to find out.

The wooden board arrived and he was pulled forward as some people put it into position behind him, placing the boards shoes, ensuring the wall to keep in place and straight.

Only then, Zuko was let go, warily straightening up, mouth dry. He knew how dangerous flinching away from knife throwers could be, he had gotten instruction in the art himself… But he didn’t know their skill, nor their intentions. And the knife man was already getting into position.

“I’m a decent throw, don’t worry, I won’t miss what I aim for. But if you try to turn away, I’ll definitely  _ ‘miss’ _ , and you don’t want that, do you?” the knife wielder purred.

Zuko swallowed emptily, averting his gaze. There was a sizzling noise, a sharp thud that made him flinch violently, eyeing to the right of his head where a knife had embedded itself into the wood. His heart was racing and he didn’t dare move.

“Now, all the kids and idiots that think this looks cool and that they can try. Come to old Fu, or me first, it ain't as easy as it looks, and it definitely is dangerous. You don’t want the mayor angry at you because you killed the captive. Understood?” He threw a glance into the circle standing around and observing the spectacle.

Zuko closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. The next sizzle in the air, followed by a sharp pain at his upper arm and the same thud that was entirely too close. The knife had slightly scratched his skin and Zuko had to withhold the urge to move a hand to cover the slight wound. He could feel a drop of blood running down his arm and fearfully stared at the knife thrower.

“Yeah… you should pay attention, so I don’t have to gain it through hurting you unnecessarily, don’t you agree? So watch while I throw, will you!?”

And so, Zuko was forced to watch the drawing back of the hand with the knife, and the quick forward movement, eyes automatically fixating on the projectile that came flying towards him. It landed a good hand-width beside his wrist, but he flinched even so. The man laughed, then pulled out a fourth knife. It landed close to his hand and suddenly an idea was forming in Zuko’s mind. He could reach that knife, he could probably pull it out in one yank, he just had to wait for someone to come close to fetch the weapons, wait for the right moment to put that fact to use. 

The chance came with the fifth, and apparently last, blade that embedded itself deeply next to his head, almost in his hair. Zuko shuddered, he’d seen the blade coming and frozen up out of fear that a wrong move would really hit him badly. Now the man was coming towards him and it made him feel nauseous. He couldn’t lose focus now, this was his chance! The man was stepping up and stretching out a hand to grab a weapon when Zuko moved. His hand wrapped around the knife’s handle and pulled as soon as the man had leaned in to pull out the first weapon. It was then that Zuko started to realize the flaw in his plan. And the man had already seen his movement and moved to grab his wrist. But it didn't matter, Zuko realized, even if he had managed to hold the knife at the knife thrower’s neck, he’d still be bound and if he moved to kill the man, he’d definitely not leave the market square alive,  _ ever _ . He dropped the knife just as a hand locked around his wrist.

“What’d you want with that?”

Zuko leaned back out of lack of any other option at evasion. He felt loose chips of wood dig into his back and hoped they wouldn’t actually penetrate his skin.

“Wanted to fight back? Come on, I’d love to hear the grand plan you had with that. Just imagine, even if you had managed to lay hand on me, you’re still bound, and these people would love to avenge my death,  _ ‘another innocent, slaughtered by the brutal Fire Nation _ ’.” The man leaned even closer, coming entirely too close as he reached for the knife embedded beside his head, carefully tugging it lose. He slowly let the hand with the knife sink, bringing it to the captive's, pushing the handle into his hand and wrapping the Zuko's fingers around, making sure he’d hold it.

“Come on, what are you gonna do?” The man goaded.

Zuko stared up at him, dumbfounded. There was no right way to react, no safe or non-humiliating way. Frustrated, he drove the knife back into the wood behind, hand slipping off as he returned his gaze to the man, regarding him, eyes blazing.

“Hehe, good choice, young man. You’re learning your place.” He pulled out all the blades, one after another, leaned down to pick up the one Zuko had dropped, then turned back to the crowd that had steadily been gathering. “For all the idiots here, that’s another reason why you should think twice before throwing a knife. It could be used against you if you’re not careful. Well, then. Lesson over.”

Zuko sighed inaudible. But just then, another knife came flying. Pinning his trousers to the board somewhere below the knee.

“I’m not quite done with you.” The man grinned.

00LI00

Ziang hadn’t let it go. Not really, Lì could see it in the glint of his eyes. But as they had to start working soon, Lì at least didn’t have to deal with that glint right away.

Around mid morning, Lì had curiously peered over to the crowd gathering around the whipping post. He couldn’t really see what was going on, but he heard the cheers. He couldn’t very well leave the place though, because his boss had let him take over the food stand for the moment.

Eventually the crowd dispersed and when Lì had his break, he went to look. The Firebender stood there like he’d always been. arms shackled so he had to hug the post. His back didn’t look much worse for wear, though he could see that his pants looked worse of wear. Lì wondered what had happened. 

He heard about it from Min Wei and Chian who had witnessed the whole thing, after being done with work. Ziang later crossed the market square alone with him, stopping when Lì threw a glance over to the captive, who, in the evening light, sat slumped down, legs pulled close, head down, leaning against the arms he had wrapped around his knees.

“So, you want to see him hurt.” Ziang stated, looking closely for Lì’s reaction.

“Ziang, let it go!” Lì said in warning.

“You do. You know, it’s only natural, you don’t need to be ashamed of it.” When Lì looked away, unwilling, Ziang continued: “I heard rumors of him hunting the Avatar, our hope in this war. And he’s a Firebender, come on, he’s not innocent anyway. He deserves it.”

“Ziang. I don’t want to hear it.” Lì stalked off. He stopped when he heard Ziang call out to the Firebender, but then determinedly kept on walking. He wanted nothing to do with Ziang’s thoughts.

At night though, Ziang’s words wouldn’t leave him alone. Yes, he wanted to see him hurt, yes, in some way, it felt justified. Yeah, the Prince couldn’t be innocent. He shouldn’t be that bothered by the thought of him getting hurt.

0ZUKO0

“Hey, Firebender”

Zuko looked up lethargically. Another youth was standing a couple of yards away, so Zuko didn’t feel threatened, it made him slow in reaction.

“Did you really hunt the Avatar? Is he real?”

“You’d think I’m guilty regardless of what I say, wouldn’t you!?”

“But is he real?”

“Yes, he is, now leave me alone.” Zuko didn’t have the energy to deal with this nosy youth. 

“So you met him?!” the youth grinned.

Zuko realized belatedly, that he’d given himself away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the ending might have been a tiny bit anticlimactic. It was really hard to decide where to divide this project into chapters. Hope you liked the knife throwing part, I know it was an unexpected bit for ML8991 and my test reader. 
> 
> Seriously, imagine, with this chapter, we're over halfway through with the prequel. Only three more chapters to go.  
It would be awesome to get some more feedback on how you perceive my work at this point. Really, please review!  
In any case, hope you enjoyed the chapter :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to ML8991 who proofread and to all who reviewed and left kudos!  
Here the next chapter, let me know what you think!

0ZUKO0

_ The top of the iceberg that finally tipped him over though, was a different form of betrayal. One that was forced, coaxed out of him, and one that made his mind flee when his body couldn’t. _

Zuko woke up abruptly, registering the approaching footsteps that must have warned him, disturbing his fitful slumber. Footsteps at night never meant well.

He scrambled up into a sitting position, looking at the man who was standing there. The tavern's lit windows illuminated him from the side and Zuko recalled clearly what had happened the last time they had met at night.

_ “No? Are you in any position to say no? I could make you feel good, you know.... Or I could make it extra painful.” _ The memory of those words forced themselves into Zuko’s mind just as much as the violence after refusing the offer. Fighting this man had been futile and turned most painful as the anger was let out on him. He swallowed, his throat had been feeling increasingly sore all day, and it hurt, but the apprehension that was eating at Zuko was far worse.

"Well, I thought long and hard about this. And I decided to be lenient today. Your fighting against this is annoying, but I’ll find a way around it. You’ll see, you’ll find it more pleasant once you submit.”

“No.” Zuko protested, voice rough.

“I’ll show you how to enjoy it. Come on, you should allow yourself to experience it fully, get a taste. Your body will like it, you’ll like it.”

“I won’t, get away from me!” Zuko knew the man wouldn’t listen, but he desperately hoped he would anyway.

“I won’t enjoy it, I won’t be willing. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to be willing, for whatever sick reason, you want me to like it, like you doing this to me. I won’t. I’ll tell you, I won’t, ever.” Zuko broke into a cough.

“You won’t know until you tried, but I’ll get my way, sooner or later. You’re tired, you won’t have the strength to keep fighting me for long. And if you do, I’ll have other means to stop them.”

Zuko tried anyway. But before long, the man had grabbed an arm and pulled him close, wrapping his other arm around him, and whispering into Zuko's ear. "Would you like to hear how?"

Zuko was trying to push him away and failing.

"Your shackles, they're self locking. I only need one and I don't have a key."

Zuko did not even want to imagine what a night bound like that would look like, still, he couldn't just give up like that, he couldn't let this happen… only that it would happen anyway and no matter how much he fought. And if pleading hadn't worked with his father, it would never ever work here, so he might as well just save himself the humiliation of trying.

He didn't want to experience this again, either.

He hadn’t noticed himself stilling, he hadn’t realized he’d stopped pushing, stopped fighting against the hands wrapped around wrist and shoulder. He only noticed when they let go and moved downwards. He took a half step back, back pressed against the lithic whipping post. He was breathing hard, too deeply.

“Calm down, it’s not that bad when you’re cooperating.”

Zuko felt the oxygen overload as much as he felt fabric give way. He shivered, he wasn’t here, this wasn’t happening… Azula always lies, Azula always lies, “Azula always lies.”

He barely felt the hands roam. Numb, he stared into the sky, eyes glassy.

“See, your friend here likes it!” pleased chuckling. “Knows what’s good for him.”

An arm grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the post. The resistance wasn’t an act of will, and when it was broken with a yank and a grunt, he crumbled, leg’s folding away under him. 

The man, still holding him, delayed his tumble, guided him down so he wouldn’t crash, then moved over him.

0ZUKO0

If asked later, Zuko wouldn’t have been able to say if it had hurt or not. His awareness only returned after the man had left. It hadn’t left completely, no, it would have been dangerous leaving his body unattended, but he’d shut down, only briefly tuning in when the man said something, detachedly taking note of it and going back under. Away, to a safe place deep inside. He may even have answered, had the man required some kind of affirmation, Zuko couldn’t remember.

Now he laid there, slowly curling towards that inner place. At some point he succeeded in redressing himself, not caring on how he appeared. He had grown apathetic to it all. Laying back down, waiting for morning, not sleeping, but not feeling awake either.

0ZUKO0

He was still in this catatonic state when the guards arrived. They had to shake him to get him to move, after they’d freed the chain from the stone and pull him with them for his trip to the sewer.

“Urgh, come on, what’s wrong with you?” One guard accused, annoyed. Zuko flinched at the tone, but finally was shaken out of his stupor. He ate and drank mechanically. He didn’t fight when they snapped the shackles shut around his wrists again.

He didn’t know when exactly he’d returned. He was just there again, tired, exhausted, but there, aware of his body, aware of his surroundings, aware of his situation. He’d missed another chance (however small) to escape.

00LI00

“Lì, Lì!...” Ziang was running towards him. Min Wei wasn’t there yet. “Sorry, got caught up, but I wanted to tell you something.” He said, breathing hard. Now that he was standing still, he continued in a more quiet manner. “I asked him a few questions. He says the Avatar is alive. He pretty much confirmed that he’d been hunting him, just like the rumors said.”

Lì stared at him, aghast.

“Go ask him if you want. But really, don’t feel sorry for the guy. And don’t feel bad for wanting to punish him!” 

“I don’t know.” he finally said.

“By the way, we agreed to do the move tomorrow.”

0ZUKO0

He ignored people, he was hit. He was insulted, sometimes he talked back.

At noon, the mayor came, telling his guards to release him from the whipping post. Zuko didn’t want to know what this was about. Could this get worse? He was turned around so that he faced the mayor and forced down on his knees, one arm held against his back. He bit back the pain the movement had caused. He looked up to the mayor, lips pressed to a thin line.

“Well, it’s been brought to my attention that, while the whipping post is good for keeping you still, it also keeps you protected in some ways. And it keeps you from seeing what happens. And while that may have been good for the beginning, now, people want to see the fear in your face, so it’s time for a change.” The mayor spoke loud enough for the surrounding people to hear.

Zuko saw him motion an Earthbender, and watched with dread as the whipping post sank into the ground. The shackle had been pushed out and fallen to the ground beside it. They didn’t pick it up when they ordered him to stretch out his arms in front of him, presenting his wrists. They held his arms there as a new pair of shackles was held out. Zuko winced as they snapped shut, not realizing how closely linked these manacles were until his arms were let go. There was just one ring keeping his wrists connected, and that also held a separate chain. He followed it with his eyes. It was held by an earth bender, who now tugged at the chain, pulling Zuko, who stumbled over his ankle chains, with him until he was where the whipping post had stood before.

Zuko was pushed to his knees again as the earthbender carefully laid out the chain. Then, he started drawing up stone again. A different form, Round on top. The middle rose out of the ground, while the sides were still connected, it looked a bit like an arch. The earthbender stopped. He instructed someone to position the chain on top of the arch, then moved into a different stance and Zuko watched as the chain sank into the stone. Once the Earthbender was happy, he moved into the stance from before, and the stone started coming up much more quickly, soon pulling Zuko upwards also. First, he couldn’t sit back down on his feet, then his knees refused to touch the ground. He pulled on his arms to have enough strength and balance to stand up on his feet, fearing that soon he wouldn’t be touching the ground at all anymore.

“Stop, that’s enough.” The mayor’s voice cut through the air.

Zuko swayed, trying to steady himself. The shackles held his wrists barely above his head as he stood, and Zuko knew, that would get really uncomfortable before long. Also, the previous shackles had already cut into skin a bit, and these only further irritated those wounds.

“Well, there you go!” The mayor said, then leaned in and whispered:

“This is our time, our possibility to strike back. And we’ve got the Fire Lord’s son to do it. We’re making a statement, and when you finally die, I will send your corpse to the Fire Nation Capital. Because no matter your banishment, your status as a traitor… you’re always going to be their royalty.”

The mayor chuckled darkly to himself, turned on his heel, and left.

00LI00

Lì had watched the whole process with glee amongst the third row of people. The prisoner was now left free-standing, forced to stay upright on his own because the swaying chain that held his bound wrists in the air offered no real support to his legs. The mayor seemed to taunt him and though the prince clearly tried to hide it, his body's posture made it clear that the words had hit home despite his efforts to avoid this.

When the mayor left, most of the wider mob dispersed, well, except for a group with a wooden rod. They took turns hitting him with it. The hits threw him off kilter, making him fall into the shackles holding him there over and over, until he hung from them limbly, unable to keep himself upright any longer with the agony he was clearly in. They quickly grew bored and soon, they too had left. It wasn’t enough, but then Lì thought of what was to happen tomorrow.

He painted in his mind how the captive would scream, how it would burn and how he’d be unable to escape just like with real fire. The Fire Nation needed to learn what burning meant, why not start with their Prince?! his mind rationalised for him.

He turned away, satisfied with the outlook of seeing proper punishment happening eventually. He just had to be patient a little longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been proofread by loathsome_child. It's an honour, I really admire her story "A Matter of Trust"  
Thank you very much!
> 
> A big thanks goes to ML8991, as always. He did a bit more co-conspirator work for this chapter, more to that at the bottom notes. His input, I firmly believe, added a tiny extra twist to the scene in question.
> 
> And at last, thank you, everyone who reviewed, left kudos, and supported this story. We're nearly at the end. After this chapter, there's just one more to go.

0ZUKO0

_ The arch forcing him to stand on his own had brought a lot of changes, none of which were in Zuko’s favour. The group that beat him with the rod showed him how. How vain it was to try and protect his head, and that it was plainly impossible for him to attempt to shield the rest. _

He’d been lucky, Zuko thought, as he took inventory of his physical state. He could protect his head with his arms for the majority of the time. They’d carry nasty bruises from the experience, though. He’d been lucky they had been aiming to hurt, not to break, too, but they’d done a fine job in their goal. His chest and abdomen were already starting to show changes in colour, going towards the blueish purple of deep bruising. It slightly hurt to breathe, so his ribs might have taken some damage, too. He’d also had several coughing fits throughout the beating. And some hits to his chest had left him wheezing, and not mainly because of the pain.

His wrists had taken the most acute damage though, they felt really raw now, more so than before. He could feel fresh drops of blood running down his arms and dripping down onto his hair and neck, now that he was just hanging from the chains.

He had acted as if he didn’t have the strength to pull himself back up to properly stand on his feet anymore. He’d taken the gamble to see if they’d let off. It had paid off for once, but he could feel his wrists painfully bear the weight. He’d get back up soon, as soon as he was sure they had dispersed and weren’t coming back and he only hoped no one else would pick up the rod they had left leaning against the arch.

As the sun wandered, it took away the shade the arch had provided at noon and exposed him to its rays. He focused on it as clouds covered and uncovered the shining sphere. He felt the warmth. Sometimes he welcomed it, sometimes it burned down too long. He hoped that the coming days would be specked with clouds, because, just as before, the shackles were heating up, and while he’d been able to keep them at a bearable temperature by absorbing the heat with firebending all this time, he wondered if he’d be able to continue to do so, or if he’d slip eventually and be burned. Ironically by metal heated by the sun. Sun might fuel his firebending, but he was coming to believe that in these conditions it was as much foe as it was friend and that it was only a question of time before it definitely tipped towards primarily enemy.

00LI00

_ The firebender would know what burning felt like by tomorrow. _

The thought hadn’t left Lì alone anymore. Ziang and Min Wei noticed, and while Ziang sat back and observed him with a satisfied smirk, Min Wei eventually prodded until Lì surrendered the fact that he looked forward to seeing the captive get hurt tomorrow and why.

“Yeah, let’s show the Fire Nation what fire feels like!” Ziang said, fist bumping again. Chian eventually joined them at their meeting place, as did Lao sometime later, and Lao proudly presented a small bottle of the essence of their plan. He had taken a smaller bottle and filled that instead of taking the whole one with him, he said.

They discussed a convenient when and where, deciding to do it around eleven, when everyone could be there. Then the conversation drifted off to the excitement of Chian at the prospect of seeing his cricket-crab fight in the tournament the next evening.

0ZUKO0

_ People certainly had gotten more interested in bothering him, now that they could see him fully. Be it just shoving him, insulting him to his face or choking him for a minute to see him squirm in panic, the number of people approaching him had risen. _

The bruises kept accumulating, but fewer people broke his skin. There had been one vicious woman who had drawn blood with her nails, though. Zuko felt very exposed and vulnerable and as the day grew older, it felt increasingly harder to stay upright, or pull himself back up if he lost balance. And so he leaned his head against his arms, muscles hurting, starting to shake when he tried to keep in the same position for too long.

He didn't manage to keep standing the whole time, but the stabbing, raw pain of the shackles on his wrists when he hung from them was always a motivator to try to get standing again after a while.

By the time evening rolled about, he was so exhausted he could barely gather the motivation to try to get up anymore. He only barely did so when the guards finally showed up and when the shackles gave way, he just slumped down, they didn’t even have to throw him.

"Just give me a minute," he said from where he lay on the ground, breathing deeply, when the guards told him to get up. Only when he heard the impatient whipping of one guard’s feet did he finally moved. Everything hurt, everything went extra slow. He barely had the energy to think about an escape, though he knew he had to try again. His attempt was quickly put to an end. He hadn’t gotten far. They let him eat and drink, then, as expected, dragged his legs to one side of the arch, and anchored the chain links into stone. That was the end of his interaction with them. 

0ZUKO0

_ Whereas he’d come to expect cruelty when approached, this evening brought an interaction that he met with mixed feelings. _

He’d gone to sleep almost immediately, knowing he wouldn’t get the shackles loose and starting to feel careless about being aware of what was going on around him, just to be prepared… He couldn’t change the outcome anyway, it was highly stressful to always be aware and he instinctively wanted to conserve energy.

So it happened that sometimes later in the evening, he was gently shaken awake. His senses hadn’t warned him, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he’d been under too much, or because the woman that sat there actually looked at him without the contempt that he had gotten so used to.

She introduced herself as Biyu and explained something about not being able to watch this any longer without at least trying to do something. She told him with a sad voice that she didn’t know how to free him from his shackles. And upon his request for a hair pin or piece of wire, said that she had none of that, not even at home, and she wasn’t an Earthbender, either.

“So what do you want?” Zuko had then snapped at her, his patience running thin. At that, she’d held up a bottle that Zuko hadn’t seen at first.

“I thought that I could at least help you clean your wounds a bit. I brought a bowl of water, some rags and alcohol.”

Zuko, who still had anticipated some move against him, first stared at her bewildered, then finally sighed and tiredly agreed, knowing that his wounds needed it. And so, the woman had gently cleaned his wounds in the dim light that the lone street lamp before the tavern across the place provided.

Washing them with water was alright, though pulling the fabric off the wound hadn’t been fun, but Zuko couldn’t hold back a whine when she cleaned his open knees. The sharp pain was driving tears to his eyes while he grit his teeth in an attempt to keep quiet.

“I’m sorry!” Biyu repeated. “I know it hurts, and that was the last thing I wanted to do, but it will help with the infections.”

Zuko knew that, and the noise he made gradually became an occasional whimper between lungfuls of air to keep calm.

Another moment of white pain flashed through him when she took his wrists and held them there to clean. He could barely hold still, he knew he’d tried to pull away even as she sharply scolded him. His ankles were raw, too, but the pain was a bit more manageable again by then. His back, she informed him, was in a surprisingly good state of healing, and he'd gotten away with surprisingly little infection there so far. She rubbed it down anyway, then moved to the collection of other scratches that he had all over. It didn’t burn quite as bad. After that, she left, telling him sorry once more and to take care.

The ordeal had been one of the more painful experiences here, which was what caused the discrepancy in his emotions. This woman had tried to help, and he could see that what she’d done had been necessary. Ironically within this first act of kindness that he’d witnessed by these people, it had also been clear that she’d have to hurt him anyway. But it also showed him that maybe there were some somewhat decent people left in this village. Some that weren’t just standing around passively, watching things unfold, but at least trying to do something. It was a double edged thought.

0ZUKO0

The rest of the night had been quiet. Zuko had slept as much as he could, though he had had a nightmare at some point. When morning arrived, his limbs felt stiff and some of his wounds expectedly still throbbed. Exhaustion still gnawed at him, but he did feel a bit more fit than before. He was determined to find a way to escape, he knew his body's state wouldn't get better the longer he was stuck here. The thing was, he didn't have a plan.

He knew they were Earthbenders, he knew that they were at an advantage, that fire, as well as running, only brought him so far. They never risked having him in their blind spot and thinking up a plan was becoming increasingly difficult. Like, who would fall for "Hey look, there's a flying bison"? And even if they did, he wouldn't get far enough.

He had thought about trying to take a captive and force them to let him go this way, and he'd tried to do that last time, using fire daggers as a weapon. He hadn't been able to overpower the guard next to him, he hadn't even made it close enough to touch him when the other had noticed and let his feet sink into the ground to stop the attempt.

He needed to get one of them to come close to him. His legs felt wobbly and he kept stumbling with the chain connecting his ankles. The man closer to him was behind him, making Zuko want to surge forward to keep the distance. It wasn’t the one that came in the middle of the night, but Zuko couldn’t help but remember anyway. But if he wanted to escape, getting him to get close might be the only way. That was when the, in hindsight, obvious idea finally crossed his mind. He let himself drop to the ground. He could pull this off, they had weakened him, it would be believable.

“Hey, get up!”

Zuko moved, faked trying to get up, letting himself crash again. He carefully positioned himself, hoping that he could muster enough speed when the time came. A foot nudged him.

“Hurry up!” The foot nudged again, harder this time. Zuko groaned, repeating his acting again, then just lay still.

The man kicked his side, then squatted down beside him, wanting to grab him. Zuko moved, driving his leg into the man’s stomach and then trying to put him into a headlock. Zuko felt that his grip was weaker than it used to be, but he ignored it and quickly called forth a flame dagger that he held below the man’s face.

Zuko somehow managed to get them into a standing position without letting the man get his head out of the headlock. He’d warningly advised him to refrain from trying to pull his head away, or he’d burn him with the dagger. Now, the man was standing awkwardly ducked. The other Earthbender had narrowed his eyes, but uncertainty was clearly written in his face, he hadn’t made a move yet. Hope surged through Zuko, maybe he really did have a chance this time. He took a step forward, the man followed, swaying and stumbling.

Zuko hadn’t anticipated the fingers searching out his side for support, after he’d told the guy to not touch the arm wrapped around his neck. He hadn’t anticipated the surge of panic when the fingers found his waistband and grabbed onto that in an attempt to walk more steadily.

The fire dagger, though it should have been second nature to keep it going, dissipated in the moment of distractedness. Zuko felt himself suck in air, acutely feeling like there was not enough of it in his system.

The man must have realized his moment of weakness, because he suddenly moved, pushing Zuko away. It was easy for them to regain control after that. Zuko’s energy levels had crashed and his resolve with it.

Once his shackles had snapped in place, time started blurring again, just like the various pains that he’d experienced. It wasn’t until he heard the name Biyu yelled that he paid attention again. 

00LI00

Lì was giddy. Today would be the day his group would make their move to get revenge on the firebenders. And he would watch. They had already assembled when someone called out to Biyu, who was passing by the market square’s center right at that moment.

“Hey Biyu, did you have a good time yesterday night?” the man said, arms crossed.

The woman stopped and turned around, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean Bào?” she asked in a controlled voice.

“Well, I saw you here, yesterday night, and it sure looked, well, how should I say, intimate?” he accused. “What a wretched woman!”

“You being there could only mean one thing, Bào: You wanted to fuck him yourself, a defenseless boy,” she shot back.

“Yeah, because you’re not putting out,” he scoffed.

“And you’re low enough to go to a captive from the Fire Nation instead.”

“It’s your job as my wife to make sure I’m satisfied.” he smirked, arms still crossed. “So? Was he any good?”

“You idiot, I did no such thing and you know it.”

“What else would you be doing there, Biyu?” He sneered.

“I cleaned his wounds.”

“Why’d you do that? Are you being sympathetic to him, the prince of the people that gave you that mark?" he said, poking at her shoulder. Lì could see her wince and move a hand there protectively, even though her clothing was covering it completely, Lì hadn’t even been aware that she had a burn mark. 

"He's just a boy, Bào!" she protested, 

"That's right, just a boy, not something you should care about, isn't that right?" he said, looking down at her, before looking her in the eye. He turned away, a creepy grin on his face, leaving Biyu behind. Lì, ever observing, saw her posture slightly slump and couldn’t help but feel a bit sad for her to have a husband like that, even if he couldn’t quite bring himself to share her sympathy with the captive.

He turned back to the captive to see him having straightened up and looking at Biyu’s retreating form. It was obvious that he’d heard what had transpired and Lì briefly wondered how he felt about it if this woman indeed had helped him clean his wounds.

The discussion had put a damper on his giddiness, but the Fire Prince had his head raised high, now. 

“Well, let’s  _ ‘clean’  _ his wounds, too, then!” Lao said, stepping forward to the arch.

“Hey Fire Prince.” Lao poked him. “How are we feeling today?”

The captive winced, barely gracing them with a glance. Lì didn’t want to look at his face anyway. 

Lao uncorked the small bottle. "Let's give him a taste of his fiery home before we begin."

Ziang, Min Wei, and Chian cheered. Lì reluctantly joined in. Motivated, Lao grabbed the captive's chin, digging his fingers into the sunken cheeks in an attempt to force his jaw open.

"Try to pinch his nose!" Ziang shouted and Lao immediately did so. The prince tried to pull away, but besides swaying from the chains keeping him in place, not much happened. He didn't get the other boy's fingers off.

It was obvious before long that his air was getting short, and when he finally opened his mouth, Lao quickly poured a generous amount, letting go of Zuko’s nose at the same time.

The captive coughed and sputtered. The shackles around his wrists clicked from the movement of his struggle. He grimaced, trying to get his breathing back under control.

“Hmm? Not strong enough for your own delicacies?” 

“You usually only add a few drops to a dish... not a whole gulp.” Zuko croaked between some coughs and swallows. “And you don’t get it poured down the wrong tube, thank you very much!”

“Oh, well, oops, too bad. You could have opened your mouth the first time and avoided the worst.”

The captive scoffed, eyes squinted. He looked down as he kept swallowing, lips pressed to a thin line. He didn’t see how Lao drippled some of the sauce onto his palm and smiled, then recorked the bottle and let it glide into a pocket.

Lao dipped a finger into the sauce and traced a long scratch on the captive’s chest. The prince hissed, opened his eyes to glare at his latest tormentor. Lì saw the straight nose in the profiled view, the golden eye had an angry glint. Lao moved to an abrasion on the captive’s cheekbone. But this time, the man didn’t flinch away, he drew in air and braced himself.

Lao didn’t let it bother him, he had more wounds to coat with sauce. Lì observed the happenings from where he stood on the sidelines. The firebender seemed to be doing alright at first, despite having swallowed that sauce. But as Lao started on his torn back, signs of distress were starting to show more prominently.

At first, it was only the breathing pattern that changed; the prince started breathing very controlled, relaxed his face. But at some point he hissed, face pulled into a grimace. Lao had started to just rub the sauce all over and it didn’t take long until the prisoner couldn’t hold back whines when releasing the air he’d been holding. He never uttered a plea, though. He didn’t even seek them out with his eyes.

Lì disappointedly observed the spectacle. He’d expected more of a reaction. The prince couldn’t hide the pain, but he held back on letting it show too much. It didn’t break him, it didn’t disfi- no, Lì hadn’t wanted that, he didn’t wish this upon anyone… but this was a firebender, and it wasn’t enough for them to learn of pain. Burns didn’t end with the pain, they ended with permanent disfigurement and other long lasting issues. Lì had to lotion his hand regularly, otherwise the skin would start itching, and scale off.

The captive had turned his face away from Lì, pressing one side against his arm, his breathing labored. Lì could see the sauce irritating the skin, it was starting to redden even in places that weren’t surrounding infected wounds. The captive was dealing with it with surprising ease, though Lì could see him starting to tremble. Maybe this was worse than it looked.

“Do you want me to stop?” Lao was asking now, trying to get the captive to admit some kind of defeat.

Maybe the prince was just really good at hiding the pain, but that irked Lì just as much. He shouldn’t have been this strong anymore, not after having stood there for days.

“Why? Do  _ you  _ want to?” The captive rasped. “Because I don’t think what I want matters here.”

He’d been beaten, shackled, humiliated, and he still dared to talk back. How could he? How dare he?

Lao seemed to think so, too. He slammed his hand down into the captive's back. That earned him a pained scream as the firebender lost balance and fell into the chains holding him in place. The movement triggered another coughing fit that sounded all but healthy. Lao waited until he had calmed down. But just when he took a step forward, the captive spoke up.

"How's your hand?" He said in a sore voice, not even looking up. He hadn't tried to pull himself up yet, either, just breathing harshly.

"What?" Lao asked, confusedly.

"Your hand," the firebender repeated, “the skin might be irritated by now.”

It made Lao look at his hand, and while his palm, with all the callouses, seemed fine, distinct redness was starting to show at the lines where the callouses stopped  and the redness showed clearly where the sauce had dripped down.

“What the hell.” Lao shook his hand and walked over to the well, quickly washing his hands. “Come on guys, I guess we’re done here!”

Lì glanced over to Lao, then returned his gaze to the firebender who still hadn’t made a move to get up. He wasn’t quite ready to go yet. He wasn’t sure if the other was aware of his presence, but that might have been for the better. Lì felt weird, standing there. The captive had brought to Lao’s attention that the spice sauce might be harming him, too.

Lì was sure he’d done it to be left alone. He had to admit that it had been quite clever, too. He hadn’t admitted defeat, he’d been coherent enough to figure out a way to get them to leave, despite the pain!   
The skin was reddening, and though the captive had absolutely no way to get the substance off himself, he’d basically told Lao to get the sauce off his hands at least. But if he thought about it, this would have been the natural course of things. The firebender had just assured that this time’s torment was cut short.

It wasn’t satisfying in the least. There was red skin, yes, but that could never compare to a blistering burn. Never. The lesson Lì had wanted to see sink in, Lì realized, couldn’t be learned that way.

0ZUKO0

He might have held back showing how bad it really was, but the wounds, they indeed felt like they were burning. Not the fire kind of burn, no, it was skin reacting to spice, but it was a stinging, itchy kind of burn, similar to Biyu's alcohol, but bad in a different way. It was one that made you just want to roll in mud. Immobile as Zuko was, he desperately searched for a distraction. 

He held his eyes closed, feeling for his inner flame. It flickered weakly, just as tormented by the spice on his skin. So he searched outwards in an attempt to escape the pain. Feeling for things beyond his skin, fire, any form or source would do, just give him something to focus on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits: Parts of the conversation between Bao and Biyu were written together with ML8991, I think I was stuck, he helped me out. He's awesome like that.
> 
> As said, just one more chapter, then the prequel will be complete...  
Let me know what you think of this chapter in the meantime!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prequel is coming to an end already, so here a few words of thanks:
> 
> For one thanks to loathsome_child for proofreading again in this last chapter as well as for sharing your thoughts with us! Thanks for the support and work, it is much appreciated!
> 
> Another thanks to my friend Rita, who translates the main project to Spanish(found on ffnet). She has been my test-reader and helped me tremendously in the process of writing it.
> 
> And a special thanks goes to ML8991, my co-conspirator in the main project. We discussed a lot of things about this before I even started writing this prequel. He was always there when I needed advice. While I've done most of the writing on my own here, he was always there and helped me out if needed. and this project wouldn’t have been made public without his continuous support in the background.
> 
> And finally, thank you all of those who were leaving kudos and comments to let us know of your thoughts. It is much appreciated.

0ZUKO0

_ It was weird how pain and boredom with no respite lead to a discovery like that. It was weird how such a craving for distraction had been required to start opening his senses for more than the obvious. _

It felt exposing, it made him feel incredibly insignificant. This had happened before, a few times prior, but usually, he had written it off as his mind playing tricks on him. In a way, slipping into this kind of perception felt very easy right now. He wondered why he hadn't discovered its significance earlier, but then again, he hadn't believed it to be real.

He couldn’t deny it now though. He knew what was there; he could hear them, the people in the market, he could see them, the sun’s rays; the colourful stands of the clothes in the market. His eyes were still closed, but now he was acutely aware. He could feel them! Different sources, different feelings, the sunlight warming up everything it touched. It acted like a veil, blending some shapes and their movement, while enhancing others, placing these in stark focus. And in the acute absence of its presence, in the shadowy corners below the tables, there were faint blobs moving in pairs.

It was different from sound, different from normal sight, but he had no energy to figure out what exactly was different, much less how it worked. The experience helped only in acknowledging that it existed, was there. And that, at least during the day, fire was all around him.

A blob was slowly disengaging from the large sun-veiled area, it was coming forward from behind him. As it moved close, Zuko heard a shift, then felt something connect to his back. Focus broken, attention snapped him harshly back into himself and the fresh pain on his back. He heard footsteps walk past him, the man’s shadow crept over the ground, as he moved into the distance. 

00LI00

_ As it turned out, it wasn’t only Ziang and Min Wei that were interested in bothering him about his feelings towards the captive. _

The cricket-crab tournament had filled the tavern with an unusual liveliness. Chian was bubbling from excitement, having put the little box holding the cricket-crab up on their table.

“He’s ready. He’s so ready!” he kept whispering.

Lì was glad that for once, the captive wasn’t the subject. He wasn’t really up to talking about the sauce incident this afternoon, and even less being questioned about his hatred towards him again. Instead, he watched as the cricket-crabs were weighed, put into categories and provoked before separating them from the females that had been added to their boxes the day before, to encourage them, so it was said.

It was an exciting thing, seeing the cricket-crabs attack each other in the fighting pen. Lì watched the first five fights spellbound, but eventually he’d had enough from peering through arms and over shoulders. He slumped back over to their table after he’d ordered another drink, then deciding that he didn’t want to wait until the overly busy waitress passed his table, as he returned back up to the bar. He was just walking back with his drink in his good hand, when the mayor saw him.

“Hey Lì! Haven’t talked to you in a while! How have you been?”” he cheerily said, also having been on his way to get a drink from the bar, slapping the young Lì firmly on the back. 

Lì politely replied to the mayor, quickly easing into small talk.

“Whose cricket-crab are you rooting for?” the mayor asked.

“Chian’s of course.”

“Yeah, his cricket-crab shows some promise. Which weight class does it belong to, again?”

Lì answered and the Mayor and Lì discussed the fights that they’d both watched and Chian’s candidate’s possible difficulties for a while. Lì didn’t see the change of subject coming, though the Mayor’s prolonged pause after his last question notably indicated one.

“You were there when Lao taught the captive a lesson, but you only watched. You’ve been watching the captive a lot…. Don’t you want to do something instead?”

“No!” It had come too quick, too defensive, so Lì quickly added a “Not really”

“Oh, come on, you do, so why don’t you?”

“It’s… Why should I when everyone else is already hurting him? And anyway, it wouldn’t be the same as an actual burn. It would never be, it’s pointless trying to teach him a lesson when actual fire can’t burn him!” Lì blurted out.

“Why don’t you try? Who says firebenders can’t get burns? He’s weakening, and it might help with that fear of yours!”

“He still spits fire!”

“He won’t be keeping that up for much longer now, so if you really want to teach the Firebenders a lesson, this is your chance. I know you don’t feel satisfied yet. And I’m sure your friends would support you!... Just think about it. You’d have my permission. It would be good if people saw you, specifically, fight back!”

“Uh…” When Lì didn’t know what to reply, a bit thrown off by the suggestion, the mayor lifted a hand onto his shoulder.

“Just think about it!... Take care, Lì. And have a nice evening!” said the Mayor, his parting words ringing in his ears.

Lì mumbled a “you too,” before going for their table where the others were excitedly waving. Chian’s cricket-crab had just won a fight. By the time their groups excitement had died down to reasonable levels again, Lì was starting to feel the alcohol slightly. That might have had to do with the ease with which these things slipped from his tongue when Ziang asked about his little talk with the mayor.

“So, what’d he want?” 

“Uh, er, he asked me why I hadn’t hurt the captive yet.”

“What’d ya tell him?”

“That I didn’t want to, but he didn’t believe me.” Lì said, looking at Ziang a bit sadly.

“What he say then?”

“Uh, that it’d be good for people to see me fight back, and that I’d have his permission to burn him. Something about helping with my fear.”

Ziang had a thoughtful look on his face at that and didn’t ask any further.

The evening ended in Chian’s cricket-crab having made third place in his weight category, and a confused knot that twisted its way into Lì’s insides. When he walked home, he for once avoided glancing at the market square’s center, and when he was lying in bed, he felt like that had been a good decision; his mind was getting out of hand and he was too tired. None of it helped him sleep any better, though. The seed had been planted.

0ZUKO0

Zuko's skin still tingled from the sauce when the guards came around for the evening routine. He really needed to get it off his skin. Maybe he was lucky and one of the nicer guards was on duty today. It had to wait though, as he knew the routine dictated a trip to the sewer, then walking through the market square collecting trash and so on, and only then, anything about getting a bowl of water to drink.

It was good that the trip to the loo came first, too, as Zuko's stumbling was off balance to the point that he fell twice because his legs were still asleep. There were a couple of almosts, too, and a guard who skeptically oversaw it. He got no help with getting up, nor had he expected any, but he faintly wondered what they'd do if he had no energy to walk anymore… Probably just drag him back through the dirt with as minimal contact as possible.

It got a bit better on the way back, and though he felt the exhaustion sitting in his bones, he managed to do the trash duty without falling and spilling it. He didn't dare think of escape however, feeling less capable of an attempt than ever before.

Back at the arch, legs already reconnected to the stone, he finally spoke up, having just been tossed a piece of semi-stale bread and waiting for the guard to finish pulling up water. It was clear that like last time, they were intending to just leave him with the bowl that was barely enough to satisfy his thirst.

"Uh, may I have more water after this?"

The nicer guard shrugged his shoulders, then looked at him. "Well, are you going to drink up or what?"

Zuko hurriedly did so, then held out the bowl to be refilled, hoping this hadn't just been a trick. But the guard just took and refilled it while the other tapped his foot impatiently. Zuko muttered a quiet thanks as soon as he'd gotten a hold on the bowl once more, then carefully set it down beside him. He dunked in the bread, and slowly started chewing while watching the guards’ retreating backs.

Once he was done and alone, he ripped off a loose piece of fabric from the rips in his trousers and dunked it in water. He had to wash away the sauce, or at the very least dilute it if he couldn't. He knew he had a very limited water supply to do it. It was a painstaking, troublesome process, and his skin was irritated and hurt. The wounds covering his body screamed to be left alone as well.

He wasn't sure if it was reasonable or safe to use the rest of the water to try washing his raw wrists a bit, but he did so anyway, though he knew infection was slowly setting in and he had no real means to stop it.

The early night had brought another visit by Bào, who had blamed his lack of opportunity the other day on him. It hadn’t been pleasant, and Zuko was glad that his mind had found a way to escape. In the end, Bào had seemed somewhat pleased, too, though Zuko wasn’t sure how he’d registered that. Somehow the realisation had just been there. The whole incident had been over more quickly, now that he didn’t fight it with every ounce of his being. He wasn’t sure if he’d really returned to his body before drifting off to sleep.

0ZUKO0

_ The newly found escape route, the one that made his body limp and cooperative for these traumatic moments, wasn't met with the same contentment by everyone. _

He’d been shaken awake roughly, the tavern’s lantern flickering weakly, the windows finally dark, unlike just a few hours ago. The man in a guard’s uniform had squatted down in front of him, grinning excitedly.

With surprising speed, Zuko shot up into a sitting position at once, then pulled his face into a grimace as his vision swam from the sudden change in position coupled with low blood pressure. He groaned. Really, he should have expected it; he hadn't eaten properly since his captivity started and his body was starting to feel it in ways beyond just a constant, ebbing hunger. And then there was the developing cold that racked his body just when his vision had cleared a bit.

"Leave me alone" he finally croaked out once his body had settled again. The sound was distorted and lacked force. It sounded pathetic.

"Where would the fun be in that?" the man replied, face in the shadows. He grabbed Zuko's shoulder, causing him to freeze. The man pushed him towards the stone arch, holding him against it and applying pressure when Zuko still didn't move. The man touched Zuko's chest, dragging his nails downwards, enough to sting, but not enough to break the skin.

Zuko's breathing picked up, but his eyes were starting to glaze over as he started his mental retreat. 

The man noticed and moved the hand to Zuko’s neck, wrapping one hand around and tightening the hold. The captive’s breath hitched, labored, but the eyes remained glassy. The guard shoved Zuko to the ground.

"Damn it, what's wrong with you?" He raised a hand to snap Zuko out of whatever this was, sitting back, brows furrowed. The boy turned to his side, breathing harshly. The man grabbed Zuko's underarm and pulled him back into a sitting position in front of him. The eyes were a bit clearer.

"Where's your spirit today?" he asked, roughly shaking the boy. The prince's head lolled from side to side, he didn't look up. The man let go, just to shove Zuko to the ground once more. He fell with a weak groan upon impact and didn't move afterwards.

"Come on, are you just going to let me do this?" he goaded, drawing back a fist and driving it home into Zuko's belly, but he did so a bit slower than normal. With the other's reactions being this lethargic, he wanted to give him a chance to get going.

"What if I keep this up until you pass out?" The man grabbed him again, pulled him onto his feet this time. The next hit was avoided, finally. The boy seemed to come to his senses.

It wasn't the same. The captive protected his body from possibly harmful blows, but he didn't even try to fight back. Just disappointing.

When the man finally moved to do what he came for, the captive was all but a shell. He reacted mechanically, barely responding to verbal commands. Only a lack of air eventually triggered the fighting that he'd been waiting for, but in the end he realized that this wasn't the rush that he'd been looking for.

It had been the body's reaction to survive, not a game of asserting dominance. The man finished because he could, not because it satisfied him. It didn't. 

He abruptly pushed off, leaving the captive coughing and wheezing for air. Anger surged through the man, this was not acceptable. He grabbed the ball of limbs Zuko had rolled into at the shoulders.

"Who broke you?" he growled out, shaking the bony shoulders. "How? Weren't you stronger than that?" The captive had himself locked into this rolled up position, holding his hands close in front of his face, and seemed completely deaf to what was being said.

"Urgh!" The man let go of him, watching as the captive fell to his side again. "I would have thought that you'd hold out longer. You were doing so well," he finally said, caressing his unmarred cheek almost with a touch of care. 

The boy didn’t move, didn’t react, entirely focused on getting air into his lungs.

“Such a disappointment!” scoffed the man as he left.

0ZUKO0

He was just lying there, even long after the man had left, only slowly regaining his senses. His throat hurt and he could feel new bruises and dried tear tracks on his face. He felt sick and as he tried to go back to sleep, the words that he’d previously missed comprehending returned one by one.

A _ disappointment, _ he’d always been a disappointment. He thought about the irony of being a disappointment even in this situation, and though his body was too exhausted to express his sardonic mirth, he definitely felt it inside.

It kind of crashed when more trickled in. _ Broken. _

_ Who? How? _

_ ...thought that you’d hold out longer… _

Longer?

_ Weren’t you stronger than that? _

When they were wearing him down strategically?

_ ...You were doing so well. _

What? His head hurt.

_ Such a disappointment. _

He could almost hear his father's voice saying “No son of mine would have ended up like this!”

Maybe he was. He’d gotten into this situation after all. And even worse, he’d found no way out of it as of yet, and he was getting too weak to attempt escapes.

It was getting harder to tell himself that it wasn’t his fault, he’d tried his best, the odds had been against him from the very start. Uncle should have come, He was coming, he just needed to hold out until then.

He didn’t really know how. They’d thrown him to the ground, beaten, forced him to bend. Thrown him to the ground again. Had he broken? Had he shattered?

The man had accused him of being broken. In some ways he felt like it. Maybe he was.

But he’d felt like this before. When he was newly banished, freshly burned. And again when they had run from Azula, when he cut off his phoenix tail. He’d had to pick up fragments of his former self, his former identity, put them back together. He felt pieces missing of himself. He was still searching to fill them up. And some things just wouldn’t fit the way they’d been, no matter how he twisted them. He’d ignored those for the most part.

It had been hard. It was still hard.

He’d always held on. He’d kept going, pulled himself together. He probably didn’t know what else to do. And maybe that was a good thing. That was him.

He didn’t feel good. No, he felt like shit. He didn’t feel like the prince he was supposed to be. But when had he ever felt like that? He’d always fought for his place. Competed with Azula. Broken? When had that ever stopped him?

His determination was all he had. It was all he’d been. He hadn’t lost that, not yet. Not completely. He was worn down, still, he’d felt compassion for Biyu’s plight. He couldn’t forget who he was. Uncle was coming.

_ “...and when you finally die, I will send your corpse to the Fire Nation Capital. Because no matter your banishment, your status as a traitor… you’re always going to be their royalty.” _ The Mayor’s words came back to him.

He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t die here. He couldn’t.

He knew he was in denial.

But ironically, instead of scaring him, the Mayor’s words gave him hope. Zuko was royalty. He had people, people who relied on someone to be there for them.

Who was he kidding? How could he even get up and stand in front of his people now, after all that had happened. Being banished, announced traitor, on the run as a fugitive, now prisoner of war. Starved, beaten, too weak to keep himself upright for long anymore. Weak.

But who else would?

Ozai was willing to send whole divisions of fresh recruits to slaughter as a diversion and marked his own son as banished.

And Azula? Azula always lied. She wrapped people around her fingers. If that didn't work she scared them, threatened them, then she used them. He didn’t want this to happen to his people.

Who else? Uncle? Uncle, who hadn’t fought for his birthright when he realized that Ozai had taken the throne, had traveled with him when he was banished and was announced a traitor at the North Pole along with him. He didn’t understand his uncle’s actions, but he’d been glad that he’d followed him on his quest. It had made him a bit less lonely. Uncle was good to him.

Uncle would surely come. 

He’d lost his train of thought again.

Right. Uncle. Wouldn’t bear to lose another son, he might as well have told him before Zhao’s invasion. And he’d trained him in the duties a Crown Prince would have to face because…

He had to stay alive.

He may bend, he may break, but he would endure, and he would find a way to build himself back up. He had to. If not just for himself, for his nation, for his people....for Uncle.

00LI00

_ When a seed falls on fruitful soil and is kept moist, it sprouts, takes root, and grows. In this matter Ziang was trickling thoughts of revenge to Lì, as he quite shared the mayor’s opinion. _

Lì didn’t want to think of the captive, he’d had nightmares again that night. The tell-tale whoosh of a firebender’s flames made him recall that a firebender was close by. And dangerous. He’d already tried to escape several times. Lì’d witnessed him using fire to do it. The captive had been like a cornered animal, he’d lash out if he had the chance. He’d probably even kill if the opportunity rose. And for once, Lì didn’t want anything to do with him. Not even to get close enough to see him being punished.

Lì wanted to stay as far away as he could.

Ziang dragged him to the center anyway, keeping him nicely distracted while doing it, too. And then they were there, the firebender wasn’t standing. He wasn’t looking up either and Lì could see the bruises on what little he could see of the man’s face. It was a nice disarray of colours, a rainbow of disfigurement. The red rash from the sauce the day before had faded though.

When Lì told him that he didn’t want to be here, Ziang insisted that he should stay, pointing out that Lì was afraid and that he needed to get over that fear. And the Fire Nation was filth anyway, that their Prince was the son of the man behind the war. They didn’t respect the other nations, they slaughtered them, like the Air Nomads. They had destroyed so much and they needed stopping. And Lì could start with the Fire Lord’s own son.

Ziang had walked right up and grabbed the captive’s chin. The man startled out of his dazed state, and much to the shock of Ziang and Lì, he took one breath and breathed fire.

Ziang quickly stumbled back. Then ran forward, grabbing the firebender by the hair and pulling his head back. “Do that again and…”

“And what?” the captive croaked out, mocking him. “You’ll hurt me?” He chuckled with ill-placed amusement. It turned to coughs and gasps for air. Ziang pushed him before letting him go and the captive swayed with the chains.

“See, I told you, he needs a lesson! And you need to fight your fear and get that anger out of your system, so you should do it.”

“I’m not angry now.”

“No, but you were. We all saw it, you crave revenge, but now fear is covering it. Here you can have it, safely, on a silver platter, you’re just afraid to take the step. Teach the oh-so-mighty, fire-spewing Prince a lesson on why one shouldn’t go around throwing fire.”

Lì shuddered, and Ziang didn’t say anything more.

0ZUKO0

He hadn’t had the energy to pull an escape attempt, but he’d struggled a bit when they had tried to lock his wrists back into the shackles. He was tired. How easy it would be to just doze off. People would bother him whenever they wanted anyway. There was no point in paying attention and stressing about something he could neither prevent nor escape from. It wasn’t easy, in a way it was too easy.

And when that youth came and startled him, Zuko spewed fire. And he couldn’t hold back that biting remark either. Yeah, what could the other do that was worse than what he had already endured?

When the youth left, his mind slipped again and exhaustion was messing with his senses. If there was no fire source on the market square in broad daylight, then why did he feel it almost everywhere?

00LI00

Fear, anger. He’d felt both plenty. Lì was no stranger to frustration either. And this situation frustrated him. He couldn’t get this out of his head. The mayor’s words, Ziang’s words.

Yes, he was afraid of the fire bender. Which was ridiculous, since the captive was all bound up and he’d noticed that the fire breath wasn’t anywhere as intense as it had been last time he’d seen it. The firebender _ was _getting weaker. 

But he still used his bending before even registering the situation properly. It made Lì sick to see how anyone could act so careless with fire.

It reminded him of that anger, rekindled it. Frustrated him, since he really didn’t want to go anywhere near the captive anymore. But it just wouldn’t leave him alone.

0ZUKO0

Hands on his throat, keeping him from breathing in much needed air. Panic. Thrashing. Others laughing. Finally, hands loosening, breathing in, then the coughing, robbing him of precious air all over again. And when his breathing finally calmed enough for him to notice the pain in his wrists again, another pair of hands would find his neck.

They treated choking him like a new game, much like the games Azula used to play with him. His lips were probably blue by now as they dared each other over how long they’d risk choking him without him passing out. So far he hadn’t, but only barely. He’d felt consciousness start slipping away a couple of times, or rather, he had felt himself coming back to his senses after having been gone for a millisecond.

Luckily they determined it was boring after a while. It was funny that only after they were gone, he felt his grasp on consciousness slip entirely, inevitably, just as soon as his adrenaline levels dropped.

00LI00

The deliveries took him across the center of the market square a couple of times. He only threw glances at the captive now. He didn’t linger anymore. But he saw that the captive wasn’t standing most of the time. That was good news. If he was weakening, then he’d have less energy to attack the people around him.

He saw the patchwork of carnage upon the captive’s skin, the grime, bruises and blood. And he couldn’t help but think that whipping marks could never hurt like a burn did.

Ziang, in the evening, only added to those thoughts, reminding him of the carelessness the firebenders handled fire with. And Chian had added that they probably burned their captives for fun, too.

And somewhere they’d heard that the Fire Nation even pulled women into the war now. Uncivilized. Downright wrong. Women weren’t supposed to fight, they were supposed to stay at home, do housework and raise kids. And even if they had to work to get enough money in, there were acceptable jobs that women could do. Fighting in the war was not an acceptable occupation of any woman. But the Fire Nation put them right into the middle of war anyway. 

When they left the tavern, the captive was lying still, rolled up, right at the foot of the arch. Lì looked away.

0ZUKO0

When he’d come to again that afternoon, it had been to a slap on the back, one that should have never hurt as much as it actually did. And even though the person had left right after, the hit tingled long after he was gone. It worried Zuko.

Time passed slowly, slipping by without him knowing. He was pretty sure that he hadn’t fallen unconscious again, though he couldn’t be sure. He’d been dozing a lot, paying attention only when someone forced him. His reactions were accompanied by suppressed screams, stinging pain, and biting remarks.

Reaching for his inner fire in search for comfort became more frustrating, worrying really, because the response was becoming weaker, and he was afraid that soon it wouldn't be enough to draw fire to the outside to defend himself anymore.

The guards that came that evening were being worse than usual, too. They had decided to switch up the routine again, telling him that he could only go to the sewer after he had collected the litter around the market square. His bladder hadn't even been the main issue. If they were intending on humiliating him, he'd already gotten to that point about two hours ago and he didn't really have the energy to care right now. No, the real issue was that his legs were half asleep, felt like jelly and refused to carry him and the basket properly at first. He kept stumbling over his feet. His sense of balance was off and his legs were tired. It got better after a while, but even so, he was glad when he was finally done walking and allowed to just sit down. His head hurt, and probably for various reasons. His skin also felt taut and sensitive in a way he wasn't used to. It hurt to touch. He didn't like the prospect of that.

Before he took the bowl of water to his lips, he finally took a moment to look at his reflection and hardly recognized the face that stared back at him. Sunken cheeks and swollen bruises. Abrasions. The scar. It didn't stand out as much, now that there were smears of dirt and blood, bruises, and what looked like a slight sunburn instead of pale healthy skin.

Looking down at his arms only confirmed the suspicion about the sunburn. The cool night breeze did little to soothe it.

00LI00

“If you don’t fight your shadows, they’ll never go away,” Ziang stressed. It was the next day and he just wouldn’t give up. “We’re here to support you in any case, but Min Wei, Chian, Lao and I, we all agree that it would do you some good to fight, mate. Even the mayor.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Lì protested. They had met at their usual corner at the market square before work and were now in a full blown discussion.

The wee hours had left too much room for thought for Lì, they’d fermented and settled the storm in his head and he was tired. He needed to put that fear aside, but that was just it, he was afraid. But they were right. Right now the fear controlled him. And with that fear came guilt. Guilt that he was even playing with the thought of making another being experience the full meaning of burning. But the captive was Fire Nation. Their _ Prince _!

“They’re Fire Nation, they don’t care if we burn, they don’t care what their mindless behaviour does. They don’t even care for their women enough to protect them! We need to stop them before they corrupt us, too!” Chian now said heatedly.

“They invade, burn down our fields and sheds, and us too, Lì! You’ve seen it first hand! We shouldn’t show mercy to them, especially not to their prince! No, we should show them what happens when one does war; what happens to the people, the prisoners of war. What happens when they burn someone, how burning actually feels!” Ziang urged. 

0ZUKO0

Night had done him some good, even though it had been interrupted by another night visitor. But way too soon, he’d been pulled back up on his legs and shackled to the arch again while the sun slowly climbed up the horizon. 

His body was betraying him. He’d fallen unconscious, or maybe he’d really just nodded off completely, but it had happened a couple of times now. His head ache was growing, too. And the metal around his wrists and ankles felt hotter than it ever had before, so much that he was dreading the noon sun because of it. Everything was turning against him.

00LI00

“If it helps, I’ll talk to the mayor to make sure the firebender won’t throw fire at you. We can also have a bucket ready to douse the fire, you know? It doesn’t need to be long. Light his pants on fire, describe what you experienced, put it out before it does too much damage. Just let him experience for a moment what it means to be at a fire’s mercy.”

0ZUKO0

Zuko bit down to keep the pain in. When something had been thrown against his back he’d startled and jostled his shackles and his skin was screaming everywhere because of it**.** His wrists were burning. The iron shackles were hot enough to cause minor burns. He must have been bending the heat previously, or this would have happened far sooner. Which must mean that his bending was fading. He searched for his inner fire, drew in a breath, breathed out.

Only sparks.

It barely responded anymore.

0ZUKO0

He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. His sunburns had gotten worse, much worse. His head ache hadn’t gotten any better. People still approached, didn’t they ever get bored of this?

They got creative, more cruel, messed up, sick. Zuko endured, retreated inwards when it became too overwhelming. Uncle, he needed, Uncle, come, _ please _.

When evening came, the routine was back to normal. His request to drink more water was even approved. But then, instead of the much longed for lying-down-to-rest, he got pulled back up. He tried his best to get his arms free, this was going too far, they just couldn’t, he… no.

Shackles snapped back into place, footsteps were retreating, voices calmly conversing as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as if nothing was _ wrong _. As soon as they were out of sight, Zuko screamed out his frustration. He realized only after a while that tears were running over his face and angrily squinted his eyes to make it stop. His legs gave out soon after, exhaustion closing in.

The following day fell right into the same pattern, down to the part of things getting worse continuously. The one guard that came for him in the evening added spoiled fruit to the menu and forced him to eat that to crown the day. By the time he left, Zuko was just about willing to knock himself out to escape the foul taste of his situation for a little while. Of course he had no means to do anything, no matter how much he wished for it. Shackled and strung up as he was, arms numb and not standing, he wasn’t going anywhere. He held his eyes closed and breathed in deeply.

It was then that his instincts tingled, a small flaming core in front of him. He heard clothes rustle.

"Go away!" He just wanted to be left alone for once and sleep.

A new face. A bothersome annoyance. A blessing in disguise.

Someone he didn't want in his life. As it turned out...

_ "Toph, are you here?" _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ystävä here: As you may have noticed, I sometimes made use of stylistic elements like captions in italics. I decided on this because I didn't want the reader to be taken by surprise and get rolled over with images that they don't get out of their heads. I hope I succeeded in this and will maybe see you in the sequel in the future. I’ll try to start uploading it on Ao3 soon. - ystv
> 
> Hey guys, ML here, the co-author. Well done for finishing this work. I know that at times it was difficult for me and ystv to write, so thank you for putting the time in to understand more how our Zuko ticks in our Metamorphosis series. Zuko will get there in his recovery, but he has to now relearn who he is and what being a prince is, key motifs I hope that can be seen going forward in this narrative. Looking forward to seeing the new story members in the next part of Metamorphosis as well as old followers. All the best,and looking forward to continuing this odyssey of a character study with you- ML8991
> 
> Comments would make our day. Please let us know what you thought! Constructive feedback is also very welcome. And if there are questions, just go ahead and ask, we’ll be very happy to answer them, even as time passes!


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